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SARA, A PRINCESS 


FANNIE 



E. NEWBERRY. 

'I 


A Princess she, though not by birth ; 

Her title's from above. 

Her heritage the right of worth, " 
Her empire that of love. 



BOSTON: 

BRADLEY & WOODRUFF. 





Copyright, 1892, 

By Bradley & Woodruff. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER. 




PAGE. 

I. 

Omens, Good and III . 

. 

• 

5 

II. 

Storm and Trouble 

. 


20 

III. 

A Search and its Ending . 

. 


. 38 

IV. 

Uncle Adam and Morton 

. 


• 50 

V. 

Madame and “the Princess” 

. 


. 65 

VI. 

Happy Days .... 

. 


. 78 

VII. 

A Tea-Party .... 



. 86 

VIII. 

News from the Nautilus 

. 


. 96 

IX. 

Rebellion .... 




X. 

Robert Glendenning 

. 


. 122 

XI. 

Betty’s Quilting-Bee . 

. 


• 137 

XII. 

New Fortunes 

. 


• 153 

XIII. 

From Killamet to Dartmoor 

. 


. 167 

XIV. 

New Friends, New Duties, and 

A New 

Loss 

. 183 

XV. 

Morton has a Picnic . 

. 


. 199 

XVI. 

The Princess holds a “ Drawing-Room 

J > 

. 210 

XVII. 

Molly gives a Party . 

. 


. 226 

XVIII. 

A Visit from Miss Prue 

. 


• 237 

XIX. 

Bertha Gillette . 

. 


. 252 

XX. 

Weakness .... 




XXI. 

The Prince cometh 

. 


. 276 

XXII. 

Good-by to Killamet . 

. 


. 291 


3 


1 




SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER 1. 

OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 

“Sairay! Sairay!” 

The high, petulant voice rose shrilly through the 
steep, narrow stairway, and seemed to pierce the 
ears of the young girl who sat under the low, sloping 
roof, nearly bent double over the book in her lap. 

She involuntarily raised both hands to her ears, 
as if the noise distressed her, then dropped them, 
straightened herself resolutely, and answered in a 
pleasant contralto, whose rich notes betokened 
power and repression, — 

“Well, mother.?" 

“Your fayther’s got to hev them nets mended 
right away, he says, an’ my ban’s is in the dough. 
Be you at them books agin .?’’ 

“Yes,” said Sara; “but I’ll come,” rising with a 
sigh, and carefully slipping a bit of paper between 
5 


6 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


the leaves of her book, before she laid it on the 
rough board shelf at one side of the little garret 
room. 

As she passed directly from the stairway into the 
kitchen, or living-room, her father turned from the 
hopeless-seeming tangle of soiled and torn netting 
on the floor before him, and looked at her half 
wistfully from under the glazed brim of his wide 
hat. 

“Was you studyin’, Sairay Ye see, I’ve 'got 
into a bad sort o’ mess here, an’ we may git our 
orders fur the long fish any day.” 

“That’s all right, father ! No, baby, sister can’t 
take you now,” as the little fellow on the floor crept 
to her feet and set up a wail ; but her smile, and a 
replaced toy, silenced the cry, and brought back 
comfort and complaisance to the puckered little 
face. 

Sara then stepped to her father’s side, and drew 
the large soiled fish-net towards her, looking with 
dismay on the broken meshes ; but her voice was 
still bright, as she said, — 

“You must have had a big haul, father, to make 
such a rent ! ” 

“Waal, ’twas partly thet, but more the ice. Ye see, 
it’s jest breakin’ up now, and it’s monstrous jagged- 
like ; ’twas thet did it, I reckon. Kin ye fix it, 
Sairay.?” 

“ Yes, father.” 

She was soon seated, the dirty mass across her 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


7 


knee, and the large bone shuttle in her hand flying 
rapidly in and out. But while her young step- 
mother went and came, talking a good deal, and the 
baby pulled and scrambled about her knees, her 
thoughts were far away, in the large schoolroom at 
Weskisset. 

For one short, happy year she had been an inmate 
of the seminary there, and in her thoughts this year 
was the Round Top of her life ! All events dated 
from before or since her “ school-time.” All paths 
with her led to Weskisset, as with the ancients all 
roads led to Rome : it was her Athens, her Mecca, 
almost her Jerusalem. 

Sara's own mother, though born inland, had come 
as schoolmistress, some twenty years since, to the 
little fishing-village of Killamet (now Sara’s home), 
where she was wooed and won by the handsome, 
honest, daring young fisherman, Reuben Olmstead. 

Sara was their first child, and upon her the young 
mother lavished untold tenderness. When, at the 
birth of the twins, nearly seven years later, — two 
infants having died between, — she yielded up her 
own gentle life, her last words had been, — 

“ Don’t forget, Reuben, that Sara is to have an 
education. I can see already that she is going to 
care for books, and she’ll need it more than ever, 
now — promise me, husband!” and the good man 
would sooner have cut off his weather-beaten spear- 
hand than break his promise to that dying wife. 

In fulfilment of it he had struggled with what, to 


8 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


his fellow-villagers, seemed most foolish persistence, 
in order to give his oldest child immense and need- 
less advantages, though it had been difficult enough 
to find the ways and means for these. Even after 
the usual annual three months of the “ deestric 
for several years, he had felt that his solemn promise 
still bound him to allow her at least one year at the 
seminary. 

Nor did the loss of his aged mother, who had been 
housekeeper since his wife’s death, weaken this 
resolution ; and it was, perhaps, partly to make it 
possible for Sara to leave home, that he had 
married the young woman of the shrill voice, 
two years ago. She could look after the house and 
children while ^‘Sairay got her finishin’ off,” as he 
expressed it. 

But Sara, like many another scholar, found that 
her one poor little year was but a taste of wisdom, 
but one sip from the inexhaustible stream of learn- 
ing, and, back once more in her childhood’s home, 
was constantly returning to those living waters, with 
an unquenchable thirst. 

It was her stepmother’s pet grievance that 
“Sairay was allers at them books,” which was 
hardly true ; for the girl took all the care of her 
younger brother and sister, and much of the baby, 
while not a few of the household duties devolved 
upon her. But she undoubtedly was apt to hurry 
through her tasks, and disappear within the little 
attic room above the kitchen in cold weather, or 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


9 


under a certain shady cove down by the sea in 
summer, as soon as these were finished. 

She had been netting but a short time when 
Morton and Mary came tumbling in, two lively 
youngsters nearing eleven years, whose bronzed and 
rosy cheeks betokened plenty of sunshine and fresh 
air. 

Say, pa ! ” they cried in a breath, almost stum- 
bling over the baby in their excitement, Mary, as 
usual, in advance, is it true you’re going dut for 
the long fish to-morrow.^ Jap Norris told us so on 
our way home from school.” 

The father’s kindly eyes rested upon them with an 
indulgent twinkle in their depths. 

“ Waal, naow, if there’s a bit o’ news in this hull 
taown thet you younkers don’t pick up. I’d like to 
find it ! Yes, ef Jap Norris said so, I s’pose it’s true; 
he oughter know, bein’ as his fayther’s the cap’n. 
How long’ll it take to finish up thet air net, darter 
“ Not much longer ; but isn’t it early to start, 
father.^ The ice is hardly broken up, is it.^^” 

“ Waal, it’s breakin’ fast, Sairay ; another day or 
two like this’ll fetch it, an’ it’s ‘first come best haul,’ 
ye know, nowadays, sence all creation’s got to 
runnin’ to the Banks. Seems like it ain’t skurcely 
fair for them sportin’ men to go out jest for fun 
they might leave cod an’ herrin’ to them what makes 
a business o’ catchin’ ’em, seems to me ; but there, 
’tain’t so easy to keep a mortgage on the sea ! ” and 
he laughed good-humoredly. 


lO 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Meanwhile Molly, as they called the little Mary, had 
flung off her hood, and now was down on the floor 
playing with baby Ned, who welcomed her with 
crows of delight, for when she felt good-natured she 
was his favorite playmate. 

The room would have seemed overflowing to a 
stranger, with its curtained bed in the alcove — or 
rather square projection — at one side, its fireplace 
at the end, and cradle, table, spinning-wheel, reels, 
and nets, to fill every available space left over. 

Even the ceiling was made useful ; for along the 
rafters were hooks which supported spears, oars, and 
paddles, while one wall was prettily tapestried with a 
great brown net, its sinkers hanging like ornamental 
balls along one edge. 

The windows were small and the ceiling low, but 
the fire shone merrily, and gave light, warmth, and 
cosiness to the crowded apartment. 

It was Sara who had pleaded for the restoration of 
the open fireplace, and the removal of the cook- 
stove to a bit of shed just back ; and though at first 
the young mother had fretted at the innovation, 
she found it so much more cheerful, and such a 
saving of candles in the long evenings, that she 
had ceased to grumble. 

As the night closed in, after their quickly disposed 
of supper, they all drew closer about the drift-wood 
fire, and no one, not even Mrs. Olmstead, seemed 
inclined to talk. 

Sara’s eyes wandered often from her book to the 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


II 


rugged face of her father, and each time she saw 
his eyes gazing thoughtfully into the flames. 

In fact, the only sound in the room was the sleepy 
simmer of the water-soaked logs, and an occasional 
giggle from the twins, who were absorbed in some 
game which they played with horn buttons on a bit 
of board, marked off with chalk into the necessary 
squares. 

Once the baby gave a sweet, low laugh in the 
‘midst of his dreams in the cradle, and then honest 
Reuben Olmstead turned and smiled towards the 
little one in a sad fashion, which made Sara feel 
the tears near. 

“Poor little goslin’ ! ” he said tenderly. “Daddy 
hopes there’ll be suthin’ for him to do not quite so 
tough as facin’ March sou’-westers ; but then, who 
kin tell } He’s a likely little chap, eh, Sairay } ” 

“ Yes, father ; he’s a dear baby ! ” 

He turned a little, and glanced back at his wife, 
who stood across the room reeling off twine, and, 
hitching his chair a trifle nearer the girl, said in a 
lower voice, — 

“ Sairay, ef ’t should ever happen ’t they was left 
to you to look arter, all three on ’em, would ye be 
good to the little fellar too, eh } ” 

“You know I would, father!” 

“Waal, waal, yes, I s’posed ye would, Sairay. I 
really did, naow ; only he ain’t jest the same to ye 
as the twins, to be shore, so I jest thort I’d ask, 
thet’s all, Sairay.” 


12 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


He nodded at her once or twice in a conciliatory 
way, then turned back to his fire-gazing for a long 
moment, after which he rose stiffly, with a half moan 
of reluctance. 

“Waal, s’pose I must go daown to the boats, an’ 
help ’em a while. Guess likely Nick Hornblower 
ain’t good fer much to-night ; too much grog aboard. 
I’m feared. Hand me them boots, sonny.” 

Morton, having just risen from his game badly 
worsted by Molly, who could never refrain from 
taunting her conquered foe, was glad to make a 
digression by bringing both the hip-boots and a long 
worsted scarf, as well, and after the father had passed 
out came to his older sister’s side. 

He gave the outer log one or two gentle kicks, 
which sent the sparks flying upwards like a covey of 
fire-flies, and finally said in a voice too low for Mrs. 
Olmstead to hear, — 

“ Sara, I got a licking to-day ! ” 

“ Morton ! What for } ” 

“ ’Cause I sassed the teacher. He don’t know 
beans, Sara, he don’t ; and I can’t help grinning in his 
face when he tells us things just the opposite of 
what you do.” 

“ But I may be wrong, Morton. What was it } ” 

“It’s lots of things, all the time. Guess when 
you tell me a river runs west I ain’t a-going to say 
it runs east, am 1} No, sir ; not for anybody!” 

Sara smiled. 

“ Well, Morton, we’ll have to be pretty sure about 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


13 


things then, won’t we ? Where’s your geography ? 
Let’s go over the lesson together. Oh ! you’re on 
Russia, aren’t you ? I was just reading something 
about that country myself. Think of its being so 
cold they chop up the frozen milk and sell it in 
chunks ; and they go to bed in a sheepskin bag, 
which they draw up all about them, and fasten 
around the neck.” 

‘^I’d like that ! ” laughed the boy. “Tell me some 
more ; ” and he dropped upon a low seat, which was 
simply a square block of wood in the chimney-cor- 
ner, while Molly, her face all alight with eagerness, 
joined the group. 

These true stories of Sara’s were the children’s 
delight ; for she had the faculty of making them more 
interesting than fiction, as she told them in simple, 
vivid language, with her sweet, full voice, pointed by 
her intelligent face. 

But after a time they were sent off to bed, and 
Sara was left alone with her mother, who now sat 
knitting before the fire. The wind had risen out- 
side, and was wailing mournfully around the cottage. 
The young girl shivered to hear it. 

“Sounds like a death-wail, don’t it.!^” said Mrs. 
Olmstead, noticing the movement. “ When the 
wind hes thet sorter long scream in it, it allers 
means trouble, and your pa off for the long fish 
to-morrow ! ” 

She shook her head dismally, and went on in 
a lugubrious tone, “Besides, didn’t ye notice the 


14 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


windin’ sheet in the candle las’ night, an’ didn’t ye 
hear the howl o’ thet dog along towards mornin’ ? ” 

Sara’s eyes were fixed upon her with an interested, 
yet half-doubtful look. She had heard these super- 
stitions from babyhood, till they had become almost 
a part of her religion. Yet she sometimes ques- 
tioned, as now. 

“ But, mother, mightn’t these things happen, don’t 
they happen often, and nothing come of it ? I’m sure 
there are winding-sheets always if the tallow is poor, 
and that dog of John Updyke’s howls every time 
they go away and leave him alone. It seems to me, 
if God is so great that even the winds and the sea 
obey him, he might warn us in other finer, higher 
ways if he wished to ; besides, why should he warn 
us when he knows he is doing everything for our 
best good.!* You don’t warn the baby when you give 
him medicine, even though you know he won’t like 
taking it.” 

^‘Sairay! Sairay ! ” her mother lifted an admon- 
ishing finger, “be careful how you talk about the 
A’mighty ! Babies is different from growed-up folks, 
and, besides, I guess ef the Lord ain’t too good to 
count the hairs of our heads, he can even take notice 
of a dog’s howl ! ” and Sara, who had the reverent 
soul of a little child, was once again silenced, if not 
convinced. Just then, too, her father entered, bring- 
ing a great gust of cold air with him as he opened 
the door. 

“Up yet.^” he asked in his big, cheery voice, as 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


5 


he unwound the gorgeous worsted comforter from 
about his throat, and shook off the sleety rain from 
his tarpaulin. ‘‘Waal, this fire’s a purty sight, I 
vum, for it’s a dirty night out, an’ no mistake. But 
we’d better all turn in naow, for we must be stirrin’ 
early to-morrer ; we’ve got our orders, an’ I’m sec- 
ond mate o’ the Nautilus.” 

“ O father, the Nautilus ? That old tub ? I 
thought you said she wasn’t sea-worthy.” 

“ Oh, waal, not so bad as thet, quite. To be shore 
she’s old, an’ she’s clumsy, but I guess she’s got a 
good many knots o’ sailin’ in her yet, Sairay. I 
guess so. Leastwise thet’s whar I’m to' go, so it 
can’t be helped, thet’s sartin. Now, wife, ef you’ll 
git out my kit,” and he turned with some directions 
concerning his departure, while Sara, feeling she 
was not needed, crept silently up to bed, her soul 
distracted between gloomy forebodings, and the 
effort to trust in God and hope for the best. 

The next morning, however, broke clear and fine, 
which was a great comfort ; for whatever storms and 
dangers her father and friends must and would, 
doubtless, meet on the great ocean, it was some- 
thing to have them start with fair winds and sunny 
skies. 

All were up before dawn, except the baby, who 
slept on in blissful unconsciousness of any impend- 
ing change ; and soon the women stood, with their 
shawls over their heads, down on the sandy, crescent- 
shaped beach, watching the last preparations. 


l6 SARA, A PRINCESS. 

It was an impressive scene, and never lost that 
quality to Sara’s eyes, though she had been used to 
it since infancy. As she stood now, near but hardly 
a part of the noisy throng, she was about midway in 
the crescent, at either end of which there gleamed 
whitely through the morning mist the round tower 
of a lighthouse. 

These were only nine miles apart as the bird flies, 
but over thirty when one followed the concave shore ; 
and the eastern light warned of treacherous rocks 
jutting out in bold headlands and rugged cliffs, 
while the western served to guide the mariner past 
quite as treacherous shallows, and a sandy bar which 
showed like the shining back of some sea-monster at 
low-tide. 

Within this natural harbor was the little fleet of 
sloops, smacks, and schooners, getting up sail, and 
shipping some last half-forgotten supplies, while nu- 
merous smaller craft were paddled or rowed about, 
closer in shore. 

The wide white beach, unbroken for a consider- 
able sweep by even a headland, was now alive with 
an excited crowd — talking, laughing, weeping, and 
gesticulating, while back on the higher ground could 
be seen the small, straggling village, of but little 
more than one street, where nearly all the houses 
turned a gabled end to the highway, while a well- 
trodden path led through a drooping gateway to a 
door somewhere at the side or Year. 

There were few trees to hide their unpainted 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


17 

homeliness ; but some windows showed house-plants 
and muslin curtains within, while the most notice- 
able architectural features were the long, open sheds, 
used for cleaning and packing fish, and a bald, bare 
meeting-house, set like conscious virtue on a hill, — 
the only one to be seen, just back of the village, 
and only worthy the name because there was nothing 
whatever to dispute its claims in the way of high- 
lands in that region. 

As Sara stood half dreamily taking it all in, more 
by imagination than eyesight, for it was still mistily 
gray, except off to the east beyond the Cliff light, 
where the sky was brilliant with the first crimson 
blush of the morning, a man approached her, a 
young fellow, still tall, trig, and ship-shape in figure, 
as few seamen are apt to be after thirty. 

Good-morning, Sairay,” he said respectfully ; 
‘‘weVe got a fine day for the start, a’ter all.” 

**Yes, Jasper, very fine, and Fm glad enough. 
The last start was dreadful! I cried all the next 
night, for, don’t you remember ? the wind kept 
rising till it was a perfect gale, and I couldn’t help 
thinking of that dreadful Mare’s Head Point. 
Mother was sure you’d get there about midnight, 
and saw signs and warnings in everything.” 

He laughed cheerily. 

'' Oh, she enjoys it, Sairay ; don’t ’grudge her that 
comfort, for a’ter all we mostly gets home safe, 
barrin’ a broken rib perhaps, or a finger. Fve had 
three falls from the rigging, and one wreck, and Fm 
pretty lively yet ! ” 


i8 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


A general movement seawards interrupted them. 
This was the final scene, the actual start. »He held 
out his hand quickly. 

“Well, good-by, S_airay.” 

“Good-by, Jasper. You’ll look after father.? 
That is, he’s getting old, you know, and if anything 
should happen ” — 

“I won’t forgit, Sairay. I’m on the Sea Gull, but 
I’ll see him now and then. Good-by.” 

His voice was wistful, but his eyes even more so, 
as he clasped her hand in a quick, strong pressure 
which almost hurt her, then turned, and went with 
great strides towards his father’s long-boat just 
about pushing off; for this was Jaspar Norris whose 
father was captain of the fleet, and by far the richest 
and most consequential man in Killamet. 

Sara turned from the young man’s hand-clasp to 
her father’s embrace. 

“ Waal, Sairay, we’re off, an’ good luck goes with 
us, ef a man kin jedge by the weather. Good-by. 
^God bless you, darter ! ” 

Sara could not speak, but she held him close a 
minute, then stood with tearful eyes and watched 
him embark, telling herself he had always returned 
safe and sound, and surely he would again. Even 
her heartache could not dull the beauty of the 
scene, as, with all sails set, the white-winged vessels 
glided smoothly out toward the open sea, and sud- 
denly her face grew bright, and she caught her 
breath in excitement, for just as the leader rounded 


OMENS, GOOD AND ILL. 


19 


the lighthouse, the tips of the masts caught the first 
rays of the rising sun, and gleamed almost like spear- 
points in the strong light, which soon inwrapped 
the whole fleet in a beautiful glow. Others saw it 
as well as herself, and some one shouted, “ A good 
sign ! A good sign ! ” while a hearty cheer rose 
from the little group of women, children, and old 
men upon the beach. 

Sara joined in it, and felt glad as well as they; 
for while she might have doubts of howling dogs 
and dripping candles, this seemed an omen that 
heaven itself might deign to send as a comfort to 
their anxious hearts. 


20 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


» 


CHAPTER II. 
storm' and trouble. 

They turned homewards presently, and Sara, 
walking between the now momently subdued Morton 
and Molly, heard her name called with a purity of 
pronunciation so seldom accorded it in Killamet 
that she knew at once who spoke. 

“ It’s Miss Prue, children ; run on home, while I 
stop and see what she wants,” she said, turning from 
them and passing through the little gateway in a 
neat white paling fence at her side. . Then she fol- 
lowed the path to the door, as usual near the rear of 
the cottage, but here prettily shaded by a neat lat- 
ticed porch, over which some vines, now bare of 
leaves, clambered, while a little bay-window close by 
was all abloom with plants inside. Between the 
plants she caught a glimpse of a smiling tace, which 
presently appeared at the door. 

“Good-morning, Sara. Come in a minute, child. 
I haven’t seen you this fortnight ! ” 

Sara smiled up into the kind elderly face, around 
which a muslin cap was primly tied. 

“No, Miss Prue, I’ve beftn very busy getting the 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 


21 


nets and father’s clothes ready ; he’s been expecting 
the start every day.” 

“ Yes, I suppose so. What a fine morning for it ! 
I’ve been watching them from the skylight through 
my binocle ; ’twas a brave sight !” 

“Yes, beautiful, only that father is getting old for 
such hardships. I dread his going more and more 
every time.” 

“Ah! but where will you find a stouter heart, or 
a steadier hand and eye, than belong to good old 
Reuben Olmstead ? He can put many of the young 
men to shame, thanks to his temperate life! Your 
father is one of the best types of his class, Sara, — 
brave, honest, and true, — did you know it.^” 

As she spoke, she led the girl from the tiny entry, 
with three of its corners cut off by doors, into a 
pleasant room lighted by the aforesaid bay-window. 
It had a bright red-and-green square of carpeting in 
the centre, with edges of fine India matting ; a large 
cabinet of sea-shells and other marine curiosities 
occupied one end ; a parrot was chained to a high 
perch near an open Franklin stove at the other, and 
the walls between were decorated with queer plates 
and platters of dragon-china, while great bunches of 
tassel-like grasses and wings of brilliant feathered 
fowl filled the odd spaces. 

Motioning her guest to a small easy-chair. Miss 
Prudence Plunkett took her own, one of those straight- 
backed, calico-cushioned wooden rockers dear to our 
grandmothers, and drew it up opposite the girl’s. 


22 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ No, child, you musn’t worry ! Reuben Olmstead’s 
a good sailor yet, and, better than all, a good man. 
His Father will look after him more tenderly than 
you can,” giving her cap an odd little jerky nod, 
which caused the parrot to suddenly croak out, — 

“ ’Taint neither ! ” 

“ Hush, Poll, nobody’s talking to you ! It’s aston- 
ishing, my dear, how much that creature knows. 
She thinks when I nod my head I’m trying to con- 
vince her of something, and it always makes her 
quarrelsome.” 

“’Tis too ! ” croaked the bird again, determined to 
get up an argument, if only with herself. 

Sara had to smile in spite of her sadness, at which 
the creature gave such an odd, guttural chuckle, that 
she laughed outright. 

“ That’s right ; pretty Poll, nice Poll ! Cheer up, 
cheer up ! ” she rattled off, looking, through all these 
merry outbursts, so unutterably solemn, that the 
effect was ludicrous in the extreme. 

“ Silly thing ! ” said Sara, wiping her eyes. “ She 
always will be heard ; but while I think of it, I must 
tell you how I’ve enjoyed your ‘ Studies in Russia’ 
that you lent me. Miss Prue. It must be fine to 
travel and see the world ! ” 

“ Yes ; and it’s decidedly comfortable, too, to sit by 
a good fire and see it through other people’s eyes, 
Sara. These thrilling adventures, these close shaves 
from shipwreck, fire, frost, and robbery, are much 
pleasanter to read about than to realize, I imagine. 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 


23 


Do you know, I always feel like adding a special 
thanksgiving for books to my daily prayer. What 
would my lonely life be without them } ” 

Sara’s eyes kindled. 

“ I’ve felt so, too. Miss Prue ; and another for you, 
because you have helped me to enjoy so many ! ” 

“All right, my dear, remember me in every prayer, 
if you will. It’s doubtless better thanks than I de- 
serve, but I won’t refuse anything so good ; and now 
what shall it be to-day, more Russia.^ ” 

“You said something about one, — fA Trip 
through Siberia,’ wasn’t it ? ” 

“ Oh, yes !” 

The elder woman stepped across the room, and 
opened a glass door screened by a thick red curtain, 
thus displaying several book-shelves thickly packed, 
from which she selected the volume named ; then 
handing it to Sara, who had risen to depart, said 
gently, — 

“ My dear, I don’t like that little line between your 
eyes ; it looks like discontent ; or is it only study ” 
Sara flushed. 

“ Something of both, perhaps.” 

“ Smooth it out, child, smooth it out ! No one 
can hope for wisdom until he has learned patience ; 
now is your time to cultivate your own. Did you 
ever see a mountain top that could be reached with- 
out a hard scramble, Sara ? ” 

“I never saw a mountain top at all. Miss Prue,”. 
smiling whimsically. 


24 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


The elder woman laughed. 

“ Then you have so much the more in store for 
you ; for Tm sure you will see one some day, if it is 
only the Delectable Mountains above. Meanwhile, 
climb on, and keep looking up.” 

ril try,” said Sara humbly, and took her depart- 
ure, comforted and inspired, as always, by this cheery 
old maid, whose lover had lain over twenty years be- 
neath the waves, never forgotten, never replaced, in 
the strong, true heart of his unmarried widow. 

When Sara reached home she found need for her 
patience at once, for the baby was crying, and her 
mother looked cross and fretful. 

“ Wall,” she said in her shrillest tone, as the door 
closed behind the girl, “ you’ve comeat last, hevyou ? 
An’ another book, I’ll be bound ! Pity you couldn’t 
turn into one, yourself ; you’d be about as much use 
as now, I guess ! ” 

“ Then we’d both be ‘ bound,’ mother, wouldn’t 
we.^” trying to speak lightly. “Give baby to me, 
won’t you, you’re tired.” 

She held out her arms to the screaming child, who 
went to her at once, growing more quiet the moment 
he felt her tender clasp. 

“There ! Now I hope I kin git a minute to my- 
self. Where you been, anyhow, Sairay ? ” 

“ At Miss Prue’s — she called me in. ' Mother, 
there’s been a pin pricking him ! See here, poor 
little fellow ! ” and Sara held up the bent bit of tor- 
ture, then threw it into the fire, while the relieved 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 2$ 

baby smiled up at her through his tears and cooed 
lovingly. 

“ It beats all how he likes you, Sairay ! ” said the 
mother in an apologetic tone. “ I never thought of 
a pin, an’ it alius makes me ready to fly when he yells 
so. What did Miss Prue hev to say } ” 

“ Oh, not much ; her parrot kept interrupting,” 
laughing a little. I always talk with her about 
her books or curiosities, nearly ; how pretty it is 
there !” 

“ Miss Plunkett comes o’ good stock. Her folks 
hev been sea-captings ever sence they was pirates, I 
guess. And she’s rich too ; she must hev as much 
as two thousand in the savings bank down to Nor- 
cross, ’sides her nice home.” 

“ She’s good ! ” said Sara with emphasis, as if 
nothing else counted for much. 

“ Wall, nobody’s goin’ to say she ain’t in Killamet, 
Sairay, leastways, not many. In course she’s ruther 
top-headed an’ lofty, but it’s in the blood. Ole Cap’n 
Plunkett was the same, and my! his wife, — Mis’ 
Pettibone thet was, — she was thet high an’ mighty 
ye couldn’t come anigh her with a ten-foot pole ! So 
it’s nateral fur Miss Prue. Now, Sairay, I’m goin’ 
over to my cousin Lizy’s a while, an’ if baby — why, 
he’s gone to sleep, ain’t he ? ” 

Sara nodded smilingly, and her mollified mother 
said, more gently, — 

“ Wall, my dear, lay him in the cradle, an’ then 
you kin hev a good time a-readin’ while I’m gone. I 


26 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


s’pose you kain’t help takin’ to books arter all, seein’ 
as your ma was a school-ma’am.” 

“ Thank you,” said Sara, more for the kindness of 
the tone than the words, and the little domestic 
squall that time passed over quite harmlessly. 

But these were of daily, almost hourly occurrence. 
Sara’s larger, broader nature tried to ignore the petty 
pin-pricks of her stepmother’s narrower, more fret- 
ful one ; but at times her whole soul rose up in 
rebellion, and she flashed out some fiercely sarcastic 
or denunciatory answer that reduced the latter to 
tears and moans, which in time forced from the girl 
concessions and apologies. 

To do the little woman justice, she was often sorely 
tried by Sara’s grand, self-contained airs, — uncon- 
scious as they were, — and by her obliviousness to 
many of the trivialities and practicalities of life. 
Mrs. Olmstead loved gossip, and Sara loathed it. 
The woman delighted in going to tea-drinkings, and 
afterward relating in detail every dish served (with 
its recipe), and every dress worn upon the momentous 
occasion ; the girl could not remember a thing she 
had eaten an hour later, nor a single detail of any 
costume. 

“ But, Sairay,” her mother would urge, after 'the 
former’s visits to Miss Prue or Mrs. Norris, places to 
which she was seldom asked herself, except with 
great formality once a year perhaps; for the early and 
life-long friendship these families had extended to 
Sara’s own mother was not so freely bestowed upon 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 


27 


her successor. ** But, Sairay, think ! You say Mis’ 
Jedge Peters from Weskisset was there ; kaint you 
tell what she wore } Was it black silk, or green cash- 
mere } and was the sleeves coat, or mutton-leg ? and 
do think if she had on a cap, kain’t you } ” 

“ I know she looked very nice,” Sara would reply 
helplessly ; “ but, really, I can’t think, mother. You 
see, she was telling about the work in the hospitals, 
— the Flower Mission, they call it, — and I was so 
interested I couldn’t take my eyes off her face.” * 

“ Wall, then, the supper, Sairay. You must know 
what you was eatin’, child ! Did Mis’ Norris use her 
rale chany that the cap’n brung over, or only the 
gold-banded ? And did she hev on them queer furrin’ 
presarves, with ginger an’ spices in ’em, or only 
home-made ? ” 

“ Well, let me see. I think they had spices, that 
is, I’m not quite sure, for Captain Klister was there, 
and he got to ‘ reeling off a yarn,’ as he said, about 
the mutiny at Benares in ’57, when he was buying 
silks and shawls there, and I didn’t notice just what 
was served, I was listening so intently.” 

At which the poor woman, greedy for news, would 
flare up and abuse her stepdaughter roundly, bring- 
ing up, each time, every former delinquency, till Sara 
either turned under the weight of them and felled 
her with a sarcasm, or, more wisely, fled to her attic 
and her books for solace. 

Thus some weeks slipped by, bringing milder and 
more settled weather; but, as if winter and spring 


28 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


had roused all their forces to repulse the irresistible 
oncoming of the summer, along towards the be- 
ginning of May there was a cold storm of wind and 
sleet, lasting three days, which blasted the too 
confiding and premature fruit-buds, and ruthlessly 
cut off the heads of all the peeping, early wild- 
flowers. 

Sara, surrounded by the children, stood looking 
from the window one afternoon, soon after this 
storm broke. 

“ How glad I am she didn’t take baby ! ” she said, 
pressing the little fellow’s cheek against her own. 
“ I felt those last two sultry days were weather- 
breeders. Do you remember whether she took her 
heavy shawl, Molly ? ” 

“ No, I don’t b’lieve she did ; wait. I’ll see.” 

The little girl, always alert as a bird, ran and 
peeped into the wardrobe, then called out, — 

“ No, here it is ! I thought she didn’t have it. 
She took her other, ’cause it’s newer. She’ll be 
awful cold to pay for it, won’t she, Sara ? ” 

“ I’m afraid she’ll take cold,” said the older girl, 
with a worried look. “ Put another stick on the fire, 
Morton, and shut the shed door tight when you come 
through. How the wind does blow ! ” 

Mrs. Olmstead had gone early that afternoon, with 
a neighbor, to attend the funeral of a friend in the 
next village, and must return through this storm in 
an open wagon, very insufficiently clad. 

It was dark before the party arrived ; and as she 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 


29 


came in shaking her wet clothes, and trying to make 
light of her shiverings, Sara looked at her in 
alarm. 

‘‘You’ve taken cold, mother,” she said, handing the 
eager, crowing baby to Morton, and hurrying to 
divest the little woman of her wet wrappings. 

“No, I guess not,” she answered hoarsely, her 
teeth chattering so that she could scarcely speak; 
“but I’m ch — chilly now.” 

She huddled over the fire, while Sara and Molly 
brought warm, dry clothing, and chafed her bloodless 
hands. Their solicitude touched her. 

“ You was alius good to me, girls ! ” she said 
gratefully. “ I feel lots better now. This fire’s rale 
comfortin’ ! ” bending almost into it in her desire 
for warmth. 

But the vociferous baby would no longer be 
silenced ; and she took him from Morton’s arms to 
her own, hugging him close, and growing warmer at 
once from the contact of his dear little body. 

“ It’s good to be home agin,” she murmured 
sleepily. “ I hope your pa’s safe at anchor to-night : 
it’s terrible bad weather, Sairay.” 

“Where did the rain overtake you, mother.^” 
asked the latter, as she hurried about preparing a 
cup of hot tea and a plateful of food. 

“Jest this side the cross-roads; and, my! how it 
did drive ! We got it e’enamost in our full faces, 
an’ it cut like a knife ; but ’twas jest as fur back as 
’twas forwards, an’ Mis’ Ruttger was as anxious to git 


30 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


home to her young uns as I was. Yah — h ! but I’m 
sleepy ! ” with a long yawn. 

“ You’d better get right to bed, mother, as soon 
as you’ve eaten this ; and I’ll undress baby and bring 
him to you. You’re warmer now ? ” 

“ Rale comf’able, thank ye. I do hope they ain’t 
got any such wind out to the Banks ! You ain’t 
asked me about the funeral, Sairay.” 

** I was so busy, mother ; were there many there ? ” 
“ E’enamost a hundred, I should think ; they come 
from as far away as Norcross an’ Weskisset. P’fessor 
Page of the seminary was there, an’ he asked arter 
you ; he said you was a fine scholard. Then there 
was the Pettibones, an’ the Hornblowers, an’ the 
Scrantouns. Oh, ’twas a grand buryin’ ! ” 

“ Did they all wear crape tied round their arms ? 
and how many white horses did you see.^” broke in 
Molly. “ If you saw seven in a row, it means you’ll 
die ’fore the year’s up. I never saw but five ” — 

“ Hush, Molly ! Don’t talk such foolishness ! 
Come, mother, your voice sounds very hoarse and 
tired. Hadn’t you better get right to bed ? ” 

“ Wall, I guess so ; but don’t hurry me so, Sairay ! 
I kain’t a-bear to be hurried ! An’ I’m tryin’ to think 
how many horses I did see, but — I’ve — forgotten.” 

Another long yawn, while her head drooped 
wearily ; and Sara, alarmed at her white face and the 
purple rings about her eyes, hurried her away with- 
out more ado, in spite of her drowsy and fretful 
resistance. 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 


31 


She had scarcely touched the pillow, however, when 
she dropped into a heavy slumber ; and the girl, 
filled with vague forebodings over her, and also be- 
cause of the storm, sent unwilling Molly up-stairs 
alone, and camped down, fully dressed, before the 
fire, with a pillow and comforter. 

The next thing she realized was the feeling that 
she was rising out of unknown depths of nothing- 
ness; and, after one bewildered glance about the 
room, she finally became conscious of a faint, hoarse 
voice calling, Sairay ! Sairay ! ” 

She dragged herself to her feet, all cramped and 
stiff from her uncomfortable position, and at last, 
fully aware of her surroundings, answered, ‘*Yes, 
mother. I’m coming ! ” as she hastened to the 
bedside. 

Bending over it, she fairly started at the pallor of 
the face upon the pillow, from which the dark eyes 
seemed starting with an expression of pain and anx- 
iety which set her heart to *beating heavily. 

“ Sairay,” whispered that strange voice, “ I’m sick 
— I’m awful sick — in here.” 

The hand, already at her side, pressed it mo?e 
closely, and her brows contracted with pain. 

“ O mother ! what is it ^ your lungs ? You’ve 
taken a dreadful cold.” 

She nodded ; and Sara flew to call Morton, and 
send him for the doctor, then heated the flannels her 
mother asked for, and vainly tried to soothe the now 
frightened and crying baby. 


32 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


It seemed an age till the doctor came stamping in, 
— a pudgy little man, with an expression of un- 
quenchable good-humor on his round, florid face. 

Well, well,” he said briskly, rubbing his hands 
before the freshly kindled blaze, “ caught cold, has 
she ? Lungs- sore ? That’s right ! Plenty of hot 
flannels. Now, let me see.” 

Having warmed himself, he proceeded to examine 
the sick woman ; and Sara saw that his face was 
more serious as he turned away. He gave her care- 
ful directions about the medicines, and said he should 
look in -again after breakfast (it was now towards 
morning) ; then tied his hat down with an old 
worsted tippet, and prepared to depart. 

Sara followed him outside of the door, unmindful 
of the sweeping gusts of wind, and his admonitions 
to stay indoors or she too would be ill. 

Yes, doctor, but just a moment ; what is it } ” 

“Pneumonia.” 

“ Oh ! and is she very Sick ? ” 

“Well, you look after her just as I tell you, and, 
God willing, we’ll pull her through. Now go in and 
cfl-y yourself quick ! I don’t want two patients in 
one house.” 

He pushed her in, shut the door behind her with a 
bang, and was gone. 

The memory of the next three days was always 
like a troubled dream to Sara, — one of those fright- 
ful dreams in which one is laboring to go somewhere, 
to do something, without success. Work as she 


STORM AND TROUBLE. 


33 


would, day and night, assisted by the kindly neigh- 
bors and the frightened children, she could not stay 
the progress of that fatal disease ; and on the 
fourth it terminated in the going out of that life 
which, with all its faults, had been kindly in impulse 
at least. 

As Sara bent over her mother at the last, trying 
to win a word, a look, the closed lids were raised a 
moment, and the dying woman said feebly, “ Sairay, 
you’ve — alius — been good ! Don’t leave — the 
baby. There’s — the — money;” and, unable to 
finish, her voice ceased, her tired lids closed for their 
last, long sleep. She would never find fault, never 
give commendation, again. How the thought smote 
Sara as she stood helplessly gazing down upon her 
through her blinding tears ! 

“ O mother, mother ! I ought to have been more 
patient,” she moaned as they led her away ; “ but I 
will try and make amends by my goodness to 
baby ” 

“ Yes, that’s right,” said Mrs. Ruttger, wiping her 
eyes. We kain’t none of us help what’s passed 
atween us an’ the dead, but it oughter make us better 
to the livin’. Not thet I blame you, Sairay ; some 
folks, even good ones, is dretful tryin’ at times ; but 
I know jest haow you feel, fur I’ve been thar 
myself.” 

There is among these honest fisherfolk a strong 
feeling of communism, which shows itself in the 
kindliest ways. They may be close-fisted, hard- 


34 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


headed, and sharp-tongued with each other when well 
and prosperous ; but let poverty, wreck, illness, or 
death overtake one of their number, and the “nigh- 
est ” of them at a bargain will open heart and purse 
with an astonishing generosity. 

Sara found all responsibility taken out of her 
hands. In fact. Miss Prue, finding her standing in 
the midst of her room with her hand pressed to her 
head, gazing bewilderedly about, and asking softly, 
“Where am I.?” took her vigorously in hand, and 
soon had her in bed, where, exhausted as she was, 
she slept for hours without dreams or movement, — a 
sleep which doubtless saved her an illness, and 
brought her strong young body into excellent condi- 
tion once more. 

Through all this Sara longed inexpressibly for her 
father, but knew it was hopeless wishing. 

All she could do was to intrust the news to a fish- 
ing-smack which was about leaving harbor, and might 
possibly run across the Nautilus somewhere on the 
broad highway of the ocean. Yet, even then, he 
could only return in case of some lucky opportunity ; 
for the fleet would not put back for weeks yet, as this 
was their harvest-time, when even the dead must 
wait, that the necessities of the living might be 
supplied. 

After a few days things were strangely quiet and 
natural once more. 

Morton and Molly, thoroughly subdued for the 
time by recent events, helped her about the house. 


STORM ANT> TROUBLE. 


35 


the short winter’s term of school having closed for 
the long vacation. 

Even the baby seemed less fretful than before ; 
and the lengthening, softening days went by in a 
quiet that l^ft Sara many hours for her beloved books. 

But the children were needing clothes, and she 
herself must have a cotton gown ; so, as the little 
store of silver in the old blue teapot had been almost 
exhausted by the simple funeral requirements, she 
put on her sunbonnet one afternoon, and leaving the 
baby, with many injunctions, to the care of the twins, 
started to call on Squire Scrantoun, who had for 
many years been her father’s banker. 

The old gentleman’s office was in a wing of his 
big yellow house of colonial architecture, and was 
entered by means of a glass door, which now stood 
open in the balmy warmth of an early June 
day. 

Stepping within, she found him reading a paper, 
from which he glanced up to scowl inquiringly at her 
over his glasses, afterwards relaxing his brows a trifle 
as he observed, — 

'‘Oh, it’s you, Sara : come in, come in ! Here’s a 
seat. Now, what can I do for you ” 

“ Thank you, squire ; I came to get some money if 
you please.” 

“ Money > Oh, yes, certainly. Want to borrow a 
little, eh ? Well, I guess I could accommodate you ; 
how much } ” 

She looked up inquiringly. 


36 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Not to borrow, squire ; but I’ve had extra ex- 
penses, as you know ; and, as father always leaves 
his money with you ” — 

The squire put down his paper, and looked at her 
so queerly the sentence died on her lips. 

‘‘I haven’t any money of your father’s — don’t you 
know ? He drew it all just before he sailed, and took 
it home ; said his wife wanted him to. She had 
dreamed of a good place to hide it in, I believe.” 

He smiled sarcastically as he made the explana- 
tion ; and Sara, in her new tenderness toward the 
dead mother, resented this smile. 

Mother was a good manager,” she said warmly, 
“ and father always trusted her.” 

“Oh, of course! Reub Olmstead always trusts 
everybody ; he’s born that way. But didn’t she tell 
you where she’d put it before she died } ” 

“No; but now I remember, she tried to. I’m sure. 
She began something about the money, but was too 
weak to finish — poor mother I ” 

“ Quite likely ; it’s a pity she couldn’t have fin- 
ished. But then, you’ll find it somewhere. Look in 
all the old stockings and sugar-bowls, — there’s where 
these people generally stow away their savings, — and 
if you don’t find it, why, come to me ; I can let you 
have a little, I guess, on interest of course.” 

He took up his paper again ; and Sara, feeling sore 
and resentful, rose, said a curt “Very well,” and 
walked out. 

Two years ago she might not have noticed his 


STORM AND TROUBLE. . 


37 


contemptuous reference to “these people,” nor to 
her father’s innate trust in human nature ; but now, 
for some reason, they rankled, and she was glad to 
get beyond the reach of his small, keen blue eyes 
and rasping voice. 


38 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER III. 

A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 

Sara had not walked far, however, before she 
began to feel the silent, irresistible influences of the 
day. It was the balmy blossoming time. The whole 
atmosphere was rich with sweet scents and sounds, 
while the sky had that marvellous depth and tone 
which makes the name of heaven seem no mis- 
nomer. 

The* sea, limpid and tender, wooed the shore with 
gentle whispers and caressings, which seemed to 
have no likeness to the wild rushes and blows of two 
months before. She looked towards it wistfully, — 
for Sara loved the sea, — then, yielding to the home- 
sick impulse, turned from the narrow street to the 
beach, and walked briskly away towards a spur of 
rock which jutted into the water sharply at some dis- 
tance away. 

Arrived here, she sought with assured footsteps a 
certain zig-zag way — it could hardly be called a path 
— which wound in and out among the bowlders, 
skipping some, leaping others, trenching on the edges 
of little pools left in some rocky hollow by the high 


A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 


39 


tide, and finally led her, after a last steep scramble, 
into a niche of the sea’s own hollowing, which she 
had always claimed as her own. 

Seated just within, she could look down upon a 
narrow causeway, into which the water came tum- 
bling through an aperture in the rocks much like a 
roughly shaped gothic window, and, having tumbled 
in, tumbled out again, with much curling and confu- 
sion, leaving its angry foam in sudsy heaps along the 
rocky edges which opposed its farther advance. 

This bit of nature was named the “ Devil’s Cause- 
way” by the natives, who have a way of bestowing 
all particularly grand and rugged sites upon that 
disagreeable personage ; but Sara, having no mind 
to give up her favorite spot to his satanic majesty, 
always named it to herself the “ Mermaid’s Castle,” 
and had a childish legend of her own about an en- 
chanted princess confined here and guarded by the 
sea until the coming of the prince, — her lover. 

Happy to be here once more, Sara leaned back 
against the rock, which felt warm, kindly, and famil- 
iar ; then, removing her sun-bonnet, fanned her 
flushed face, and looked dreamily away to the pale 
opaline horizon, against which some sails showed 
inkily, like silhouettes. 

She was wondering vaguely why sails should look 
so white in shore and so black far out to sea, when 
she was startled by a sharp tap ! tap ! apparently at 
her very elbow. 

She jumped a little, then listened wonderingly. 


40 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


It came again — tap ! tap ! tap ! — then a pause ; and 
then an unmistakably human exclamation of impa- 
tience, while a bit of rock went whirling past her, to 
plunge with a resounding thud into the torrent below. 

She leaned just the least bit forward and looked 
around the side of her alcove to see a funny sight. 
There stood a little man in the attitude of the Colos- 
sus of Rhodes, his bare bald head red and perspir- 
ing, and his eyes glaring through huge gold-bowed 
glasses at a bit of rock in one hand, which he had 
evidently just broken off with the hammer in the 
other. 

He was muttering something unintelligible to Sara, 
and looked altogether quite queer and cross enough 
to be a denizen of this ill-named locality. 

Sara, laughing to herself at the funny apparition, 
was drawing into the rocky shell again, when a mis- 
chievous puff of wind suddenly caught her gingham 
bonnet from her limp grasp, and sent it flying down 
the chasm after the piece of rock. 

She heard the exclamation again, louder and more 
guttural than before, then the full moon of a face 
peered around her sheltering wall, and the voice 
said, — 

“Hein! A yoong mees ! Beg pardong, then — 
have I deesturb you ? ” 

“No, sir,” rising to her feet ; “only I’ve lost my 
sunbonnet ! ” looking ruefully down to where it hung 
tantalizingly in sight, but far out of reach, on a jut- 
ting point of rock. 


A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 4I 

He looked too, then shrugged his shoulders with a 
sympathetic air. 

“ If I have only been some tall now, mees, or if I 
could some climb down there — but, alas ! ” 

He shook his head, and threw out his hands with a 
helpless motion, and just then a clear whistle rose 
from the base of the cliff, giving the tune of “ Annie 
Laurie.” The two looking down then caught a 
glimpse of a strong white hand, issuing from a black 
coat -sleeve, which was extended towards them, as the 
nervous-looking fingers grasped a ledge of rock pre- 
paratory to a spring, when the little man burst out, — 

“Ha! Mine nevew I Robare, Robare, look I 
look dis way ! ” 

The whistle ceased, and a head was thrust for- 
ward, — a well-cropped, chestnut head, — while a 
voice as clear as the whistle sang out, — 

“ Hello, uncle ! That you, up there ? How did 
you make it ? Haven’t got a rope to give me a lift, 
have you 

“ No, no, vait ! Dat — dat — zing — Oh, you tell 
he I ” turning impatiently to Sara, for, in trying to 
speak quickly, his limited English had quite deserted 
him. 

She called out obediently, in her rich young 
voice, — 

“Wait, please! Do you see the sunbonnet just 
above your head ? If you will get it and go around 
to the beach. I’ll meet you, and point out the way 
up here.” 


42 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ Indeed I will ! ” was the quick and courteous 
response ; and she saw the fingers tighten, then the 
head give a little spring upwards, when the hand 
clutched the bonnet, and all disappeared. 

“ I have it,” was called up an instant later. “Now 
for the beach ! ” 

Sara turned with a smile to the little man, who 
nodded kindly, raising his hand to lift the hat that 
was not there, then, with a bewildered look, he 
whirled around two or three times and gazed at her 
helplessly. 

Los' r' he murmured, with so comical a look of 
dismay that Sara could scarcely keep from laughing 
outright. “ Los’ ! an’ it ees tree now of dose hat 
that ees gone, alas ! ” 

“ Perhaps I can find it,” she said encouragingly. 
“ Why, what’s that } ” suddenly catching sight of a 
bundle of things in a hollow just below. 

Sure enough, there was the hat, also a coat, and 
a round tin box Sara was afterwards to know as a 
specimen-case. She sprang lightly down, handed 
them up to the absent-minded little geologist, and 
went on her way, meeting the nephew on the lower 
ledge. 

He lifted his hat politely as he saw her, and, hold- 
ing out the bonnet, said, — 

“I presume this is your prope'rty } ” 

“Yes, thank you,” she returned, flushing a little 
as she received it. “You were very kind to gef it 
for me.” 


A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 


43 


Indeed, no ; it is you who are kind, rather ! 
Did you pilot my Uncle Leon up that steep 
place ? ” 

“Oh, no, sir ! He found the way. See, after you 
get around this rough ledge it is easy till the last 
climb; that is quite steep. Just follow me a 
moment, please.” 

“ As long as you wish ” — he began gallantly, but 
she did not wait to hear ; and, having led him to a 
spot whence he could see his uncle, she pointed out 
the further way, slightly bowed her head in adieu, 
and, waiting for no further parley, turned about and 
walked briskly homewards, remembering it was high 
time to return to the baby, and begin a search for 
that hidden money. 


It was late afternoon of the next day, and poor 
Sara stood in the midst of her family and household 
treasures, looking the picture of despair. Around 
her was collected every description of bag, box, and 
bundle, also the baby, while Morton and Molly (the 
latter secretly delighted with all this excitement) 
were turning things upside-down and wrongside-out, 
with vim enough to have furnished Pinkerton’s whole 
force. 

But now they had come to a halt ; for so far, though 
everything on the premises had apparently been 
emptied, no money had appeared, and the three 
stood confronting each other, with dismay written 
on their faces. 


44 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Call t you think of another place, Molly asked 
Sara in desperation. She couldn’t have torn up 
the floor, could she } ” 

Molly’s eyes danced. 

“ What if we had to take up every board ! My ! 
’twould tear the old house all to pieces, wouldn’t it 1 
But, Sara, there isn’t another place anywhere ; we’ve 
been everywhere that even a mouse could get. I’m 
sure!” 

“Then it must be among these things, and we 
have overlooked it. Here, Morton, you take that 
pile ; you this, Molly ; and I’ll attack these rags ; 
though it doesn’t seem possible that she could have 
put it in a rag-bag.” 

For a moment there was silence, as each delved 
and peered, the baby more industrious than all the 
rest, snatching at everything, to clap to his mouth, 
only to toss it aside for something else when he 
found it was not eatable. 

“ Well, Sara, say what you will. I’m sure ’tisn’t in 
my heap,” said Morton. “What shall I do with all 
these bits and papers, anyhow 

“Let’s see, it is nearly tea-time. Put them right 
into the fireplace, and light them to boil the kettle.” 

“All right; and O Sara! do let’s have some crisp 
fried potatoes with our herring : this work has made 
me as hungry as a black bear ! ” 

“Yes, yes, do, Sara!” cried Molly, hopping up and 
down. “And some molasses on our bread too; the 
butter’s all gone.” 


A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 45 

''Well, Molly, you’ll have to slice the potatoes 
then.” 

"Of course I will; where’s the knife whirling 
about over the thickly strewn floor, glad of any 
change from what was becoming a wearisome and 
fruitless task. 

"Molly! Molly! You’re making everything fly! 
Do be more careful ! ” 

" Yes’m,” dropping suddenly into a ludicrous imita- 
tion of the waddle of a goose ; "ril stop flying, and 
paddle.” 

"You need a paddle!” muttered Morton, contempt- 
uous of such antics ; and he proceeded to stuff the 
rubbish into the chimney-place, adding a light stick 
or two. 

Soon there was a leaping blaze under the squat 
black kettle, which the boy watched with satisfac- 
tion. 

"There!” he said, "we won’t have to look those 
over again. Why, what’s baby got It looks just 
like a wad of tobacco. Here, Neddie ! Neddie ! 
don’t put that in your mouth ; give it to brother, 
quick!” 

But master baby had no idea of giving up his 
treasure-trove, and resisted so stoutly that a regular 
scramble ensued. For his dimpled fingers were shut 
so tightly over the wad that Morton could not at 
first undo them, and the baby, wrenching his hand 
away, crept rapidly to ' Sara, half crying, half laugh- 
ing, then, with a sudden thought, turned when in 


46 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


front of the fireplace, and with a wild little giggle of 
mischief and rebellion tossed the thing into the very 
midst of the blaze. 

The three were all laughing in sympathy, Sara 
on her knees before the rag-bag, Molly with knife 
and potato suspended in air, and Morton just as he 
had tipped over sidewise on the floor when the baby 
broke away, when suddenly Sara gave a quick, 
piercing cry. 

“ See ! see ! O Morton ! Morton ! ” and reached out 
her arms in a desperate way, too paralyzed for the 
instant to rise. 

Morton, following her wild glance, echoed the cry, 
for the supposed wad of tobacco, uncurling in the 
heat, was now plainly seen to be — a roll of green- 
backs ! 

Morton sprang forward and made a lunge for 
them; Sara, regaining her wits, did the same, while 
Molly shrieked and whirled like a dervish, but alas ! 
it was too late ! Their scorched fingers clutched 
only a crumbling blackened roll, which fell to pieces 
in their grasp, and the day’s search for that money, 
which meant all the difference between comfort and 
privation, had ended in a tiny heap of ashes, which a 
breath would blow away. 

For one long, dazed, dreadful minute Sara and 
Morton stood gazing at each other, the boy’s blue 
eyes large as saucers, and Sara’s brown ones turned 
to black by desperation ; then the baby, frightened 
at the silence and their strange expressions, began 


A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 47 

to cry and tug at Sara’s dress, demanding to be 
taken up. 

This broke the spell. Molly gave way to an 
agony of crying; Morton said brokenly, ‘‘Oh, what 
will we do.?” and Sara, stooping mechanically to lift 
the unconscious little cause of all this trouble, gave 
a long, quivering sigh, and murmured helplessly, 
“God only knows!” 

And, indeed, the prospect was dark enough. 
Those greenbacks meant the savings of months^ 
doubtless, put by bit by bit, for just this occasion, 
and to have them thus destroyed in one careless 
instant seemed too cruel I 

After a little they could talk about it. 

“Where could it have been .?” sobbed Molly, mak- 
ing a dab at her eyes with the potato, but remem- 
bering in time to substitute the corner of her apron. 

“ I don’t know,” said Sara ; “ it was wrapped in 
brown paper, I think. Even if we had seen it, we 
would have thought it but a twisted scrap. Did 
either of you see Neddie when he picked it up .? ” 

No one had, until Morton spied it on the way to 
his mouth, and all conjectures were useless so long 
as the little fellow could not explain. 

Instead, Morton said more hopefully, “ But, Sara, 
perhaps this isn’t all there was. She might have 
hid it in two or three places.” 

Sara shook her head dubiously ; such wisdom was 
more than she could hope for in the young mother. 

“No, Morton, I don’t believe there would be 


48 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


enough to divide. We must look this trouble 
squarely in the face^” 

“But, Sara,” persisted the boy, “Jap Norris always 
says father s the most forehanded among them all, 
and rich for a fisherman. You know he never spends 
a cent for grog.” 

“Yes, Morton, I know. Poor father ! it’s too bad, 
when he works so hard for us!” and for the first 
time tears trembled on her eyelashes. Then, dash- 
ing them bravely away, “ Well, what’s done can’t be 
undone. O baby, baby ! if you knew the mischief 
your bits of hands have done ! ” holding them up, 
and spatting them gently together till he crowed 
with delight. “ But come, Molly dear, where are 
those nice fried potatoes we’re to have for supper } 
‘There’s no use in crying for spilt milk,’ you know.” 

Molly gave a last sob, then looked up with the 
sun breaking, through her tears. “ Burnt money’s 
worse’n spilt milk, Sara ; but I’ll tell you what, when 
the coddies are all gone. I’ll go lobster-catching, can’t 
I ? It’s awful fun I ” 

There were few circumstances in life out of which 
Molly could not extract “fun” in some shape. 
Indeed, in less than five minutes she was laughing 
gayly, and caricaturing the whole scene just passed, 
from the baby’s wilfulness, to Sara’s shriek of dismay 
and rush for the burning greenbacks. 

Sara, oppressed with care and forebodings as she 
was, could not help smiling, and the smile seemed to 
ease her of her burden just a trifle. 


A SEARCH AND ITS ENDING. 


49 


‘‘ Well, we haven’t come to want yet, thank God ! ” 
she thought hopefully. 

Not want as they knew it, though the most of us 
might consider them little short of it. There were 
still herring, “coddies,” and potatoes in store, and 
some groceries, while the pile of wood back of the 
shed was large for that village. Then, too, summer 
was near, when their needs would be fewer. To be 
sure, the new dresses must be given up, but they still 
had one change apiece, and there were some things 
of the dead mother’s which could be used, for pov- 
erty does not admit of morbid sentimentality. 

“ Oh, we can live, surely, till father comes home,” 
was Sara’s summing-up that night, as she lay 
wide-awake in her bed after all the rest had long 
been sleeping. Then, turning over with the resolu- 
tion to trust and fear not, she clasped the naughty 
baby (whom she had never thought of blaming) in 
her arms, and, with a last uplifting of her soul in 
prayer, dropped gently into slumber. 


50 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER IV. 

UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 

The days slipped quietly away, and Sara managed, 
in the midst of all her duties, to read with the chil- 
dren at least one hour of each, and to get a little 
time besides for her own deeper studies. 

She found she could take the old school-books, 
which she had thought once so thoroughly learned, 
and dig new treasures from them ; while the books 
from Miss Prue’s, nearly all of a scientific character, 
were read and re-read with ever deepening interest. 

But it was not the printed page alone that Sara 
studied. She had always been fond of long walks, 
and in these her keen eyes, directed everywhere, lost 
nothing that nature had to show her. 

The shapes of the clouds, and their relation to the 
weather, the different phases of the sea, all the 
queer collection of weed and mollusk that it cast 
ashore, the formation and colors of the cliffs, the 
different shades and granulations in the sands of 
beach and pine grove ; everything gave her active, 
hungering mind food for thought and speculation. 

She seldom returned empty-handed from these 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 5 1 

strolls, and a rude little set of corner shelves she 
and her brother had managed to nail together, was 
rapidly filling with the oddest and prettiest of her 
findings. She managed, also, to interest the chil- 
dren in these things, and taught them a lesson some 
people never learn, — how to use their eyes. 

Thus, living close to nature’s heart, they could not 
be absolutely miserable, though want did press them 
closely. 

Sara had enjoined secrecy on the children in re- 
gard to the money. She was naturally reticent, and 
dreaded the gossip of the little town, which made 
a nine-days’ wonder of every small happening ; and 
had besides that self-respecting pride which dis- 
likes to thrust its misfortunes on a careless world. 
But perhaps more than all, a certain loyalty to the 
dead mother closed her lips. She would not have 
her blamed for her foolishness now she could not 
defend herself, poor thing ! And they would man- 
age somehow till father returned. 

If worse came to worst, she could borrow of Squire 
Scrantoun, though she felt she could not resort to 
that humiliation except in case of actual necessity. 
So long as a potato or herring was left in store, she 
would wait for relief ; but one thing did cause her 
most anxious thought, and that was how to procure 
milk for the little one. 

As she stood one morning counting over the few 
pennies left in the old blue teapot, and wondering 
what she should do when they were gone, the door 


52 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


was flung open, and Morton, flushed and bright-eyed, 
entered and threw something at her feet. 

It was a wild goose, limp and drabbled, and Sara 
looked up in surprise at the boy. 

“ You didn’t shoot it, Morton ? ” 

'‘No ; .but I killed it !” exultantly. “ I’ve got the 
‘honk’ so I can do it nearly as well as Uncle Adam 
.Standish ; and this morning I was down in a nice 
little cove, when I saw this old fellow light on the 
water close by. Then he paddled out and began 
feeding along the beach. So I ‘honked’ to him, and 
he answered, and I kept on, and he came closer. I’d 
first broken off this piece of rock to bring home and 
show you that bit of crystal in it, when I thought I’d 
use it, and I rose up and let fly ! Well, it toppled 
him over, and I jumped out and caught hold of. him 
before he could get away, and wrung his neck — and 
there’s the goose, and here’s the rock ! ” 

He pointed triumphantly to each, while Molly 
executed a sort of scalp-dance about the group, 
snapping her fingers and smacking her lips, as she 
cried, “ Won’t we have a dinner, though ? And 
I’m so sick of herring! You’ll cook it for dinner, 
won’t you, Sara.?” 

The young girl hesitated a moment, her eyes going 
from one eager face to the other with a deprecating 
glance. No one knew better than she how delight- 
ful this change of diet would be ; but she quickly put 
aside her own desire, and said gently, — 

“ I’m so proud of you, Morton I Molly and I can’t 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 


53 


complain with such a man to look after us, can we ? 
But look at this. I have only a few pennies left, and 
I was wondering what we should do for milk for 
baby. Now, if we cai) all be unselfish, and let you 
sell this goose to Mrs. Norris or Miss Prue, it will 
buy milk for some time yet. Don’t you see, dear > ” 

The boy’s face flushed darkly, and all the bright- 
ness died out of it, while Molly’s became as blank as 
the wall. 

“ It’s all the baby’s fault,” he said bitterly. “We’d 
have had plenty of money but for him. Let him suf- 
fer too ! ” 

“ Morton ! ” 

His head drooped at the grave tone, and Molly 
choked back something she was about to say. 

“ Could you really bear to see that little darling 
suffer, Morton ? You know you couldn’t ! We all 
know he never meant to do such mischief. Look at 
his innocent little face this minute ; could you see it 
grow thin and pale for lack of the food he craves 

Morton gave one look, and melted. 

“I didn’t really mean it,” he stammered; “only 
I’m awful hungry, Sara.” 

“ My brave soldier ! I know you are. But you’re 
going to be the help and standby of us all till father 
comes home. I’ll bake the potatoes to-day, you like 
them so, and you may have a wee bit of bafcy’s milk 
to eat with them.” 

This appeal was not lost. The boy straightened 
up proudly. 


54 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“Well, give me the goose,” he said resolutely; 
“ ril take it to Mrs. Norris. I saw company driving 
up as I came by, so I guess she’d like it.” 

Molly made no remonstrance to this, except to 
draw down her round face to a doleful length, and 
drawl out a ridiculous wail common among the 
sailors, — 

“ ‘ I’m bound away to leave you — 

Good-by, my love, good-by ! 

I never will deceive you 
No never, Mary Ann ! ’ ” 

which she pointed by giving the stiffened foot of the 
defunct goose a last fond shake in farewell. So it 
was with laughter and good feeling, after all, that 
their dinner for that day was renounced. 

But the little episode had given each a spirit of 
self-sacrifice, which was to help them through many 
hard times, while it had put an idea into Morton’s 
head that he was not slow to act upon. 

As soon as he had disposed of his goose to Mrs. 
Norris (who snapped it up eagerly, and paid him 
well, its opportune arrival saving her the great mor- 
tification of giving her friends a fish dinner), he 
sought out old Adam Standish, the acknowledged 
sportsman of the village. 

As usual, he found the heavily bearded, long- 
haired, keen-eyed old man sitting on a bench before 
his cabin, and at the minute gazing down the long 
barrel of a shot-gun which he had just been clean- 
ing. 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 


55 


“ Hello, uncle ! ” was Morton’s greeting. 

Every man is an “uncle” in Killamet, unless he 
is a “cap’ll,” or a “squire.” 

“Hello!” said Adam, lowering his gun. “Oh! 
it’s you, sonny ? Come up and have a seat,” sweep- 
ing together the empty gun-shells, bits of rag and 
wadding, small tools, etc., at his side. “ How’s your 
folks ? ” 

“ All right,” remembering with a sudden sense of 
pleasure the money for baby’s milk safe in his pocket. 
“ Been gunning lately ? ” 

“ Waal, some, a brace or two o’ brants ; jest hand 
me them pincers, Mort. Why ? Want to buy ? ” 

“ No ; I want to shoot.” 

“Hey.? You! He, he!” 

“ I killed one this morning, Uncle Adam.” 

“ Whar’d ye get yer gun .? ” 

“ Didn’t have none.” 

“ Hey .? Little boys shouldn’t tell squibs.” 

“I’m not squibbing ; I ‘honked’ to it from behind 
some rocks, and then knocked it over with a stone.” 

“Ye did .? Waal, purty good ! purty good ! Goin’ 
to hev it fer dinner, I s’pose .? ” 

“N— no, I sold it to Mrs. Norris.” 

“Did, hey .? What’d she giv ye .? ” 

Morton told him, and the old man ruminated a 
while, as he industriously cleaned, primed, and loaded 
his gun, while Morton waited, watching a long, 
plume-like line of smoke along the distant horizon, 
which he knew was from a Portland steamer. Finally 


56 SARA, A PRINCESS. 

Adam set down the gun with a ‘contented air, and 
observed, — 

“ Haow airly kin ye git up ? ” 

“At three, if you say so.” 

“Waal, come along abaout four ter-morrer mornin’, 
an’ I’ll take ye ’long o’ me.” 

“But I haven’t any gun. Uncle Adam.” 

“ Don’t need none ! I’m a-goin’ to show ye what 
guns is When you’ve got that idee bagged, it’ll 
be time enough fer the weepon. I ain’t no patience,” 
he went on, putting his hands on his knees and 
bending forward impressively, “with these fellers 
what mangles their game. I s’pose it’s plain that 
the A’mighty made wild fowl to be shot, but the man 
what breaks their wings and leaves ’em to crawl off 
an’ die in misery ain’t human, he ain’t ! Make clean 
work o’ it, or let ’em alone, / say,” and he began 
gathering up his traps in a manner that convinced 
Morton the conference was over. 

So he said good-morning, and went whistling down 
the village street, the wind from off the sea temper- 
ing the downpour of the sun on white cliff and sand, 
and lifting the wide rim of his torn straw hat to 
caress his ruddy cheek. 

Away out on the bay was a schooner tacking 
against the wind, while just rounding Rocky Point 
was a trim little yacht with all sail set, flying straight 
in for Killamet beach. 

“How pretty she rides!” he thought, and won- 
dered, boy-like, if when he was a big man he would 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 


57 


sail his own craft, — the end and aim of every fisher- 
boy along the Atlantic coast. 

As he dreamed, he turned and walked down over 
the satiny sand of the beach to the water’s edge, and 
now could see that there were three people in the 
yacht, — a little round man with big spectacles at the 
rudder, a taller one, young and trim-looking in his 
tourist costume, who stood boldly out on the bow- 
sprit, while a beautiful woman with blond hair 
leaned gracefully back in a steamer-chair. 

With native courtesy Morton hastened to assist in 
securing the boat, and was rewarded by a hearty 
“ Thank you, my boy ! ” from the younger man, and a 
brilliant smile from the lady, which covered him with 
blushes and confusion. The older man seemed in a 
brown study, and only glared at him absent-mindedly 
through his large glasses. 

“ Ah, Robare ! ” said the lady with an odd little 
accent, “ I have now a thought ; it may be this boy 
could to us tell of some public-house near by, to 
which we could go for this night.” 

All turned to Morton, who said hesitantly, — 

“ Yes, there is one, or at least there’s Miss Zeba 
Osterhaus ; she keeps store in her front window, 
and has rooms up-stairs that she doesn’t use. Some- 
times she takes in a painter fellow, or the goose- 
men.” 

“ The what > ” laughed the young man, advancing 
with a large portfolio, which he had taken from the 
yacht as soon as she was made fast. 


58 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ Why, the men that come for the wild geese — - 
gunning, you know.” 

“Ho, yes indeed! I’d like to be a ‘goose-man’ 
myself, for once in a way. What do you say, uncle 
and aunt ; can you make yourselves contented with 
your geological and artistic prowls to-morrow, and 
let me off for a bit of a shoot ? ” 

Both gave a ready assent, and the speaker turned 
to Morton. 

“ And now, my boy, can you add to your favors by 
showing us the way to this — What’s her name ? — 
you mentioned, and telling me, as we go along, where 
I can get hold of a good guide and sportsman about 
here .? ” 

As he spoke he attempted to slip a half-dollar into 
the boy’s hand, but it was sharply withdrawn. 

“ I’ll tell you all I can, sir, without pay,” flushing 
as he spoke ; for a sudden memory of the cruel needs 
at home made him almost regret yielding to his first 
impulse of pride and self-respect. 

The young man flushed a little also, and slid 
the silver piece back into his own pocket rather 
quickly. 

“ Pardon me,” he said in a graver tone than he 
had yet used. “ I shall be very grateful for your 
information.” 

“Well, sir, there’s old Uncle Adam Standish, he’s 
the best I know,” said Morton, as they led the way 
towards the village, followed by the others. “ He 
can hit his bird on the wing every time, and he can 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 59 

* honk’ so’s to fool any goose alive, and find the best 
blinds of anybody ’longshore.” 

“ Really ? He must be a genius ! ” 

“Yes,” — wondering what a genius might be,.— “if 
he’ll only let you go with him you’ll have a good 
shoot.” 

“ If he’ll let me ! Why shouldn’t he ? I expect 
to pay him for his trouble.” 

Morton laughed. 

“ That wouldn’t make any difference. He doesn’t 
seem to care much for money; all he notices is how 
a man handles his gun. If you hold it just to suit 
him, he’ll go, and if you don’t, he won’t.” 

“ How ridiculous ! Well, do for goodness’ sake 
tell me in what manner I must handle the gun that 
I may please this Criticus.” 

Morton bridled with indignation. 

“He ain’t a cuss. Uncle Adam ain’t. He’s a nice 
man, and he knows what he’s about too. If you’d 
see some o’ the fools that come down here to shoot 
you’d be particular too, I guess. They’re a good 
deal more apt to hit their guide than the birds, I can 
tell you.” 

The young man laughed heartily. 

“ My boy, I hadn’t the slightest intention of call- 
ing your relative names ; that was simply a title 
many men would be proud to bear.” 

“ That’s all right,” in a mollified tone ; “ but he 
isn’t any relation to me. Everybody calls him uncle.” 

“Ah, I see. You make me feel wonderfully in- 


6o 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


terested in this wise Adam, and only in a fright for 
fear I won’t hold my weapon to suit him ; couldn’t 
you give me a lesson or two, now ? ” 

Morton looked at the stranger askance ; was he 
making fun of him } then straightening his boyish 
shoulders, he said proudly, “ I can tell you something 
better than that. Pm going gunning with Adam 
to-morrow morning at four o’clock, and perhaps I can 
get him to take you along too, if he likes your 
looks.” 

“ Let us hope he may ! ” observed the other fer- 
vently. ‘‘What! is this the place we’re bound for ” 
looking dubiously at the weather-worn cottage oppo- 
site, in whose gable end was a primitive bay-window, 
through which could be seen half a dozen jars of 
barber-pole candy hobnobbing sociably with boxes 
of tobacco, bags of beans, kits of salted mackerel, 
slabs of codfish, spools of thread, hairpins, knives 
and forks, and last, but by no means least, a green 
lobster swimming about in a large dishpan. 

Morton wondered what this stranger could have 
expected better than this, and remarked encour- 
agingly, — 

“ She’s got carpets on most all her rooms, and she 
hooks the nicest rugs in Killamet, — all big flowers, 
or cats lying down, — the prettiest you ever saw ! ” 

“Aunt Felicie, do you hear that.?” flinging the 
question over his shoulder. “ We are about to meet 
your rival ! You paint flowers, and she, — just hear 
the alarming word, — - she ‘ hooks ’ them I Cats, too, 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 6l 

and dogs, did you say } Does the verb have a dis- 
honest meaning here in Killamet, my boy ? ” 

Morton stared back wonderingly, not understand- 
ing much except that in some way either he or 
Miss Zeba, or perhaps Killamet in general, was being 
held up to ridicule, and that it was his business to 
resent it. 

I don’t know, sir,” he answered stoutly, “ what 
you mean : but if you want to know whether Miss 
Zeba is a nice woman, I can tell you that ; she’s just 
as good as gold, sir ! and I suppose if folks don’t 
like our ways in Killamet they needn’t come here, 
there’s plenty of room outside, I guess.” 

The young man turned and gave him a critical 
look, which soon grew approving, then held out his 
hand. “This is the second time I’ve had to ask 
your pardon ; will you make up, and be friends ? I 
like you, and if they’ve got any more of your sort 
here, I shall like Killamet ! ” 

Morton extended his hand readily enough, and 
felt it seized in a close, strong pressure which pleased 
him, though he could not have told why, and the 
young man turned again to his aunt. 

“ Here we are at — now, what is that name, my 
lad ? ” 

“ Miss Zeba Osterhaus, sir.” 

“ Oh, yes ! I believe I could remember it if I 
could once see it spelled, however ” — 

The rest of his sentence was broken off by the 
sharp jangle of the bell above the door, as Morton 


62 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


opened it ; and the warning note brought Miss Zeba 
herself from an inner room. 

Whatever of fun had been dancing in the young 
man’s eyes suddenly died out at the sight of her. 
She was small, like a little child, but had the wan, 
drawn, yet sweet-looking face of a middle-aged 
woman, while between her shoulders she bore that 
fleshy symbol of Christian’s burden, that painful 
affliction, that almost intolerable deformity for a 
woman to endure, a hump-back. 

Instantly the young man’s hat was off, and the 
young man’s voice grew almost tender, as he said, — 

“ We beg pardon for disturbing you, but is this 
Miss Osterhaus ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” she responded, with a quaint little old- 
time courtesy, directed with much precision, so as to 
include the three adults, beginning with the lady. 

“ And have you a spare room, or two ; do you ever 
take in strangers for a few days ? ” 

“ Sometimes, sir, when they do be gentlefolk, like 
you,” with a smiling little nod ; “ a lone woman can’t 
be too keerful.” 

The blond lady stepped forward and took up the 
word in her sweet foreign voice. 

“ Ah, it will be such a kindness, and we are most 
easy to bear, I hope you will find.” 

“ Yes, as my aunt says, you will not find us hard 
to suit ; we can put up with a few inconveniences, if 
necessary. Might we look at your rooms ^ ” 

These were found to be so neat and cheerful — in 


UNCLE ADAM AND MORTON. 


63 


spite of low roofs and small windows — that a bar- 
gain was quickly consummated ; and having planned 
with Miss Zeba for a dinner in half an hour, the 
young man turned to his little guide. 

“ Now,” said he, with the fun leaping to his eyes 
again, “ now for the ordeal ! Will you conduct me 
to this Diogenes of a gunner, and have him tell you, 
without a lantern, whether I am the man he is look- 
ing for, or no ? ” 

“Yes, we’ll go,” said Morton in a matter-of-fact 
tone; “but I don’t think he’s looking for you. He 
never goes a-nigh the post-office, because he says 
he hates a crowd ; so even if you’d written some one 
that you were coming, he wouldn’t know it.” 

“Ah, yes, I see; we will take him entirely by 
surprise, then ; well, ‘ lead on Macduff ! ’ ” 

“ My name’s Morton Olmstead, if you please, sir.” 

“ And a good name too, laddie ; I like it, and 
what’s more I like you ! You’re going to make a fine 
man some day, did you know it } ” 

Morton’s eyes kindled. 

“ I mean to, sir. Sara says I can if I will ; she 
says the good God started me with a sound brain 
and a healthy body, and I ought to be able to do the 
rest.” 

“ She does, eh } ” opening his eyes surprisedly. 
“ And who may this wise and epigrammatic Sara be. 
I’d like to know } ” 

Morton concluded to let the suspicious word go 
unchallenged. 


64 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ Yes, sir, she is wise and good. She’s been to 
school lots, and she’s my oldest sister.” 

“ Ah, indeed ? That accounts for your unusually 
good English, I suppose. I had wondered at it here.” 

Morton felt this to be a compliment, so turned red 
and squirmed, not knowing just how to acknowledge 
it, and his friend, perhaps to relieve him, asked 
kindly, “ How old is Sara ? ” having already decided 
she was nearing the thirties, at least. 

“ She’s seventeen, sir.” 

Is that all } ” quickly. “ Such a mere girl, and 
yet talks like a wise-acre, eh ? How does she look ? ” 
“ Well, she’s tall, and walks straight and proud- 
like, and her hair’s kind of copper-colored where the 
sun shines on the waves in it, and her eyes are big 
and brown, and can drag a lie right out of you, sir ; 
but when she laughs her teeth shine, and there’s a 
dimple in one corner of her mouth, and she looks 
pretty well.” 

“ H’m, I should think likely,” said the young man 
in a musing tone, then, as Morton turned a sharp 
corner, “ What, that way ? ” 

“Yes, sir; there’s Uncle Adam now, sitting on 
his bench smoking, and he looks good-natured ; aren’t 
you glad ? ” 


MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 


65 


CHAPTER V. 

MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 

For once the old man was sitting quite still, doing 
nothing, unless you can call smoking a very dirty 
and ill-smelling pipe an occupation. He nodded to 
them and puffed away, saying between his whiffs, — 

“How d’ye do, stranger You agin, Mort ? Set 
daown, both on ye ; settin’s jest as cheap as standin’ 
raound here,” indicating the bench on the other side 
of the door with a blackened thumb. 

But neither cared to sit, and Morton lost no time 
in coming to business. 

“He wants to go gunning with us in the morning. 
Uncle Adam, may he ? ” 

Adam eyed the young man, who returned his gaze 
with frank, smiling eyes, without speaking. 

“ Kin ye shoot ? ” asked the old sportsman at last. 

“ A little,” modestly. 

“ Waal, what — tame turkeys ? ” contemptuously. 

“ No : I /lave shot wild ones, as well as prairie- 
chickens, quail, and — deer.” 

“ What ! Be thet some o’ your college sass, naow ? 
I git so full o’ thet every season, it makes me sick ! ” 


66 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


‘‘ I’m not a college student, and I generally tell the 
truth. I’ve lived West for some years, and have had 
some good hunting at odd times ; but, to be honest, 
I don’t know anything about your bird-shooting here, 
and I’m hankerin’ after an experience ! ” 

The homely native word pleased the old man, and 
he smiled leniently. 

Waal,” he said, removing the pipe to knock out 
the ashes and put it in his pocket (much to the other’s 
satisfaction), “waal, I guess we kin fix it. Mort, 
here, an’ me, we was goin’ out airly in the mornin’. 
Ef you kin turn out in time, ye mought go with us. 
I’ve got a gun for you, but you’ll hev to pay fer the 
powder an’ shot, an’ give me my share o’ the 
birds.” 

“ We won’t quarrel about terms,” laughed the 
other. “ I’ll be on hand without fail, and am much 
obliged.” 

“ Oh, ye’re welcome ; good-day. Remember, four 
sharp, naow ! ” as they turned to go. 

“ You see,” said the young man to the boy, as soon 
as they were beyond ear-shot, '‘he didn’t put me 
through the manual of arms, after all. I feel almost 
defrauded of my just rights. Do you Suppose I 
knocked the conceit out of him with my talk of big 
game ? ” 

“I don’t know,” said Morton, “but I guess he 
took a liking to you. He’s queer about that. Some- 
times he won’t look at these fancy fellers that come 
down from the city, no matter how much they offer. 


MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 6/ 

He says he can’t abide ’em — that a fool of a loon is 
too good to die at their hands ! ” 

‘‘And he isn’t far wrong, I’m thinking. Are you 
going that way } Then you will pass near the yacht, 
won’t you Have you any objections to taking a look 
at it, to see if it is safe ? Oh, and by the way, 
there’s a basketful of eatables stowed away under 
the stern-seat that we won’t need now ; couldn’t you 
dispose of them in some way ? ” 

“ I think I could, sir,” said Morton demurely, drop- 
ping his lids, not to show too strongly the joy in his 
eyes, for if he had been hungry in the morning, he 
was ravenous now. 

“ All right, then ; good-by, my little friend — or, 
rather, au revoir. I’ll see you in the morning,” and 
the two separated, mutually pleased with each other. 

A few minutes later Morton entered the home 
kitchen, joy beaming from his countenance, and a 
large basket hanging from his arm. 

“ Sara,” he cried, “have you been to dinner V , 

“ No, we waited for you ; but how late you are. 
It’s after two.” 

“ All the better, for here’s a dinner to match the 
biggest kind of an appetite ! See here, and here ! ” 
He spread out with intense satisfaction sand- 
wiches, fried chicken, cakes, doughnuts, and cheese, 
besides jellies and fruit, while Molly fairly howled 
with delight, and even Sara’s eyes shone happily ; 
for, unless you have lived for a week on salt herring 
and potatoes, topped off by a long fast since break- 


68 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


fast, you cannot understand how good those things 
looked to the hungry children. 

But, Morton, you didn’t tell Mrs. Norris, did 
you ? ” Sara asked in a distressed tone. I didn’t 
want ” — 

‘‘Now, don’t you worry, Sara ! I sold her the 
goose, and got my money — here it is ; but this is 
another kind of game, and while we’re eating. I’ll tell 
you the whole story,” which he at once proceeded to 
do, for, hungry as they were, they all fell to with 
scant ceremony. 

The next morning the blond lady, being bereft 
of both escorts, started out for a stroll on her own 
account. 

You have before this, doubtless, divined her to be 
the wife of that same little man Sara had met on the 
cliff ; and we now formally introduce her as Madame 
Grandet, wife of Professor Leon Alphonse Grandet, 
of the Academie des Sciences at Paris, who was now 
prosecuting his geological studies in New England. 

She herself was endowed with no mean artistic 
talent, her specialty being the painting of flowers in 
water colors, and, as she always sketched from nature, 
she had become almost as much of a botanical student 
as her husband was a mineralogical. 

But this morning the quaintness and quiet of the 
village tempted her into a stroll down its long street, 
before she should seek the pine woods farther back, 
in search of hidden beauties, and one picture that 
she came upon held her spell-bound for a moment. 


MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 69 

This was a small, poor cottage, painted only by the 
sun and rain, before which, on a tiny square of green, 
a baby was rolling about — a cunning little fellow 
with rings of silky light hair, while on the low door- 
step sat a girl of such unusual appearance that the 
lady stared in undisguised admiration. 

Her head was bent above a book, and the auburn 
shades of her luxuriant hair caught the sunlight in 
every wave and tendril ; her eyes were cast down, 
but the dark lashes curled upward from the slightly 
flushed cheek thick and long, while the brows were 
as daintily perfect as if laid on with a camel’s hair 
brush ; the nose was straight and delicate ; the 
mouth, now set with deep thought, firm and sweet, 
while the chin carried out this look of decision, 
and would have been almost too square but for the 
coquettish little cleft which gave it the needed touch 
of femininity. 

Her complexion, unblemished, except for the sun- 
tinge which showed an out-of-doors life, was of that 
peculiar tint, neither blond nor brunette, which is 
usually found with hair of that coppery hue, and the 
whole artistic head but crowned a form whose grace 
and roundness not even her ill-fitting gown could 
conceal. 

“ One of nature’s gems ! ” whispered the on-looker 
in her native tongue. “And what a cherub of a 
baby ! I must make their acquaintance.” 

She took an orange from the satin bag hanging on 
her arm, and held it towards the little one, who had 


70 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


now toddled to the open gate, and was gazing shyly 
at her. 

He looked at the tempting yellow apple, then back 
at sister, oblivious in the door-way, then once more 
at the coveted fruit, and was conquered. 

As Madame Grandet stepped towards him, he did 
not retreat, but reached up his dimpled, dirty little 
hands (he had been making sand-pies) and caught 
the fruit she dropped into them. 

Then he gave a delighted little laugh, which roused 
Sara, who raised her large eyes, now dreamy with 
far-away thoughts, but which flashed into pleasure at 
sight of the two. 

“ Pray pardon me,” said madame with a gracious 
little nod; I would not deesturb you, but the babee, 
he ees so sweet! You will let me give to him the 
orange .J*” 

“ Oh, certainly ; thank you I It will be a great 
treat for him,” rising and coming forward, with her 
book in her hand. “ Won’t you come in and rest 
a moment ? The sun is warm this morning.” 

“ Thank you, mooch ; it ees indeed most warm I 
May I not here sit on the step of the door by your- 
self ? ” 

“ Oh, let me bring you a chair,” running to get 
one. “There, this will be more comfortable,” pla- 
cing it just within the open door. 

“That is true; t’anks! Come, mine babee, let me 
to you show how an orange is to eat, when one has 
no care for the appearance — it is nature’s own way.” 


MADAME AND “THE PRINCESS.” /I 

She cut a tiny hole through the thick rind with her 
pearl-handled penknife, then put it to the child’s 
lips and bade him suck out the juice, as the little 
bees suck honey from the lily-buds. 

Sara watched her delightedly. How graceful, fair, 
and easy she was ! What a beautiful dress she wore 
— perfectly simple, yet with an air of taste and style 
even her unaccustomed eyes could note. How deli- 
cate her features, how refined her voice, and with 
what a small white hand she managed the little 
knife ! 

She felt at once that here was a woman different 
from any she had ever seen before — perhaps the 
first one for whom she felt the word “ lady ” was no 
misnomer. 

Her admiration showed so plainly in her honest 
eyes that the madame was inwardly amused, as well 
as pleased, yet not at all discomfited, for she had 
been used to admiration all her life. 

“ What is the book you read, my dear young lady, 
may I ask ” she said presently. 

“ It is Hugh Miller’s ‘ Testimony of the Rocks,’ ” 
answered Sara. 

“So.?” It was the French lady’s turn to look 
undisguised astonishment. “ And does it for you 
have interest then .? ” 

“ Yes, indeed ; did you ever read it .? Don’t you 
think it is wonderful how those long-buried veins of 
rock are made to tell us God’s own plans and work- 
ings ? I can never see a cliff that I don’t begin to 


72 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


wonder how it was formed, and what secrets it may 
contain. I am like baby with his toys,” smiling till 
her dimples deepened, “ I want to break it in pieces 
and find out how it was made ! ” 

“But that is joost like my Leon ! Always he goes 
about with his hammer tapping, tapping, at every 
bit of stone. Is it then that you, too, are a geolo- 
gist ? ” 

“ Oh, no, not that ! I do not know enough, only 
sometimes I find a specimen ; I have a few inside, 
if you would care to see them ? ” 

“ Indeed I care,” rising at once ; and when she 
stood before the well-filled shelves we have before 
mentioned, she cried out in astonishment, — 

“But, surely, my Leon must see these. You have 
here some greatly rare bits. Ah, what a beautiful 
pink rubellite ! I have not seen ever a finer. And 
this geode is most perfect. Did you yourself find 
them ” 

“ Yes, nearly all, except what my brother has 
brought me, and in this neighborhood too ; I’ve 
never been more than twenty miles away in my life.” 

“ And I do see you have them labelled and classed 
so neat as my Leon could do. You must indeed let 
me bring him to see you. He is my husband, and 
a — a — I forget now your English word how to say 
— but he eats and sleeps and dreams over dose miner- 
als, and he would almost forget of me, the wife whom 
he adores, for one fine new piece of old rock with the 
print of a bird’s toes therein ! ” 


MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 73 

Sara laughed with a merrier sound than she had 
known lately ; and the lady, delighted to have pleased 
her, joined in. 

“ Oh ! it is laugh we can now, my child, but some 
days it ees not so funny, for he does come home too 
often with no hat, or perhaps even his coat that is 
left behind ; but the hammer — ah, he would never 
from that to part did he not have a single clothes 
left ! ” 

Sara suddenly turned, her eyes dancing with merry 
interest. 

“Wait ! Was he here about a month ago } Does 
he wear glasses, and is he short and ” — 

“ It is, it is ! You have then seen him } ” 

“Yes, indeed!” and she related the meeting on 
the cliff, to the madame’s genuine enjoyment. 

She kept nodding her bright head, and finally 
burst out, as Sara told of the lost sunbonnet and its 
rescuer : — 

“ He vas my nevew, Robert Glendenning ” (she 
pronounced it however Robare Glendneeng); “and 
is he not one handsome, fine young man } ” 

“ I did not look at him long, but I think he is,” 
blushing a little. “And are not you the party my 
brother told me of yesterday I did not think then 
it was the two gentlemen I had met who were 
so kind to him. Morton is not any too good at 
description I ” 

“ Morton, ah, yes, that ees the bright youth who 
did put my brave Robare to the rout I And he is 


74 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


thy brother, then ? May I not know thy name also, 
my fair young mees ? ” 

“ It is Sara Olmstead, ma’am, and I am a fisher- 
man’s daughter.” 

“ And I, my fisher-lass, am name Madame Grandet 
now, though my girl name it was Felicie.” 

“ Oh, how pretty ! ” 

“ You t’ink .? Do you know it mean ‘ happy,’ ‘ for- 
tunate,’ and I am that, for I have few cares, and my 
husband does indulge every wish I can make. And 
your name, does it mean something good also ? ” 

“ I have read somewhere that it means ‘ a prin- 
cess,’ ” blushing more than before ; “ but that is 
hardly the meaning my name should have,” giving a 
quick glance about upon her homely surroundings. 

“ I do not know. You have the grand air, and — 
ah, I have it ! I have it! You must be a King’s 
daughter, a princess indeed I ” 

“But, madame, my father is plain Reuben Olm- 
stead, a good and honest man, yet only a fisher- 
man.” 

“ But, no, my child, you do not yet comprehend. 
The King, it is thy Father in heaven, and thou must 
be one of those who call themselves the King’s 
Daughters. It is a great society which does extend 
over the whole world of Christians, and each one of 
the members does take her pledge to do Some good 
each day, for the help of mankind. It is ‘in His 
name ’ that they do this, and their reward it is in 
heaven ! ” 


MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 75 

She spoke with great earnestness, and Sara listened 
breathlessly. 

A princess, a daughter of the King of kings, en- 
dowed with the birthright of high thoughts and 
noble deeds, enrolled in the royal order of the Saviour 
of men ! Surely here was a destiny grand and glori- 
ous enough to satisfy the highest ambition. 

Her eyes darkened with the rush of thoughts that 
kept her silent, and finally she drew a long breath, 
looking up with such humility, yet kindling joy, that 
her words seemed but an echo of her glance. 

I will be one ; teach me how ! ” 

As she spoke, the baby who had been sitting on 
the doorstep contentedly sucking his orange, now 
broke through the rind of his yellow globe of sweets, 
to find nothing left but a bitter shell, and thereupon 
set up a wail and toddled over to Sara. 

She lifted him up with tender words of comfort, 
applied a dampened towel to his sticky face and hands, 
then brought him in her arms to the doorstep again, 
where she seated herself near the madame, who had 
resumed her chair just within. 

The absence of any adults in the house suddenly 
struck the latter, and she asked, “ Where is then the 
mother, Mees Sara } ” 

“In heaven,” said the girl softly. “ She died when 
I was little; and poor baby Ned’s followed her a few 
weeks ago, since father went for the long fish.” 

“ Ah, how sad ! how sad ! And have he not hear 
of this trouble } ” 


76 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ I do not know ; not unless he got the word I sent 
by Captain Smalley. But, you see, his smack may 
not have sighted the Nautilus at all. It seems as if 
father would have tried hard to come, if he had 
heard,” she added, her eyes growing misty ; “ we need 
him so ! ” 

“ Poor child, poor little one ! ” murmured the lady 
in her own language, then in English, “ But what is 
it you speak, — the ‘ long fish ’ ? Do not all your 
ships return each Saturday ? ” 

“ No ; not now. That’s the way they do at many 
of the fishing-villages, I have heard, but we are a 
long way from the Banks, and there’s Mare’s Head, 
which every vessel must round to make our harbor, 
so dangerous a point that our fleets used scarcely 
ever to get by all in safety ; for when a man is hurry- 
ing home to his own fireside on a stormy Saturday 
night, he is not as careful as he should be. So now 
our boats stay out through the season, and when 
they have a big haul put into Gloucester or Annis- 
quam to sell their fish, only bringing home such as 
they cannot find a market for. It saves many wrecks, 
and they make more money, but it is often hard on 
those left at home ! ” 

‘‘Yes, yes, that is true, I make no doubt! 
But do you live here quite alone, you and the 
babee ? ” 

“ Oh, no ; there are my brother and sister, — the 
twins. Morton is the one I spoke of ; he has gone 
gunning with Uncle Adam Standish, and the young 


MADAME AND “ THE PRINCESS.” 77 

man who must be your nephew, Fm sure ; and Molly 
has gone on an errand.” 

“That Morton — it ees one fine boy ! His air do 
say, ‘Behold the American citizen in me!’ is it not.^” 

Sara smiled and sighed. 

“He is a good boy, and my mainstay now, for it 
is hard sometimes to manage for so many ; but will 
you not please tell me some more about the King’s 
Daughters, madame ” 

Her new friend, nothing loath, went into further 
details of that marvellous organization, telling of the 
silver cross, which was a passport to the best so- 
ciety and gentlest treatment the world over ; describ- 
ing its growth by tens, its circles within circles, its 
active benevolences and astonishing influence — all 
that of which the world has been hearing, almost as a 
child listens to a fairy-tale, with wonder and delight, 
yet only half credulous. 

She also promised to send her copies of those 
beautiful stories, “Ten Times One,” and “In His 
Name,” which first gave rise to the grand idea; and 
when she finally made her adieus, it was to leave 
Sara in a happy dream, filled with new hopes, desires, 
and resolutions, all petty cares for the time being 
quite forgotten I 


78 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER VI. 

HAPPY DAYS. 

When Morton came home that night, it was with 
more of the air Madame Grandet had so graphically 
described than usual, for he bore two braces of birds, 
which he exultantly dropped, with a silver dollar, into 
Sara’s lap. 

“ Why, what is this } ” she asked, surprised at the 
money. 

It’s mine,” was the proud reply. Mr. Glen- 
denning gave it to me. He said I had earned it, as 
well as the game, for I had done all the hard work in 
bagging the birds ; and O Sara, but he’s a fine shot ! 
Uncle Adam is that fond of him he’s been trying to 
get him to stay all summer. He says he’s a man, if 
he does wear short pants ! ” 

Sara laughed. 

‘‘Two braces of birds, a dollar, and some new 
friends, how rich we are, Morton ! You shall have a 
supper fit for a king, now, and I, one good enough for 
a princess ! ” with a meaning smile over her inner 
thought. 

“ Won’t we } Make it a roast, Sara, with lots of 


HAPPY DAYS. 


79 


gravy and stuffing, the way they do at Mrs. Norris’s ; 
and oh ! I ’most forgot, when we came by Miss Zeba’s, 
the pretty lady came out and said, ‘Tell your sweet 
sister we will make her a morning call to-morrow, if 
she do please ’ — them’s her very words.” 

“ ‘ Those are,’ you mean. Do try, my boy, to speak 
correctly, at least. I begin to think people are judged 
more by the way they speak than the way they dress, 
among intelligent people, so be careful.” 

“ That’s so, Sara, for Mr. Glendenning said I spoke 
good English, or, at least, that because you were so 
wise was why my English was correct, something like 
that.” 

“ Why, what does he know of me ? ” astonishedly. 

“Oh, nothing much, only I said you’d been to 
school, and so on. Sara, I believe I’ll go up-stairs 
and lie down till supper’s ready — I’m just about 
tuckered out ! ” 

“ Humph ! Do you call ^/lat good English, Mor- 
ton.?” 

“Well, it’s just what I am, if it ain’t fine talk,” 
yawning loudly, and before she could correct him 
again, the urchin made a grimace of defiance, and 
fled up the stairs to his bed in the loft. 

The announcement of that supper “fit for a king” 
brought him down good as new in an hour’s time, 
and I think few royal personages ever enjoyed a 
meal more, for “ hunger is the best sauce ” now as 
ever. 

The next morning the three from Miss Zeba’s 


8o 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


arrived, quite curious over this orphaned family the 
madame had talked so much about. 

As for young Mr. Glendenning, ever since Morton’s 
description of his sister, which instantly recalled to 
his memory a blushing, beautiful face, and a hand out- 
stretched for the gingham bonnet in his own, he had 
been secretly wondering in what way he could make 
his surmises certainties, without ungentlemanly in- 
trusion ; so you may be sure he had no better busi- 
ness in hand when his aunt proposed the call, 
while her husband would go miles any day to view a 
really fine specimen. 

Molly, in the doorway, painfully enchained just 
then to her stocking-darning, first sighted the trio, 
and announced in an excited whisper : — 

“They’re coming, Sara, they’re coming ! Have you 
got the baby washed, and the braided rug over the 
broken board in the floor 

Both these important ceremonies having been 
attended to, she seated herself once more, with an 
attempt at composure, though every line of her 
speaking face was alert with anticipation. 

“Ah !” said the madame, eying her from the road, 
“that must be the girl-twin, — Molly they do call 
her. What a chic little face it is ! Do look with 
what an air she will make as if she does not see us ; 
it ees inimiteeble ! ” 

They turjied into the little gate, much amused, and 
she finally looked up, with such an assumption of 
astonishment they could scarcely keep from laughing 


HAPPY DAYS. 


8l 


outright ; then sprang to her feet, and made a twink- 
ling little bow, which set the young man’s eyes to 
dancing, and entirely captivated madame, at which 
Sara appeared in the doorway, with her fine Greek 
head, and rare smile, to give them greeting. Then 
Morton turned from the fish-lines he was straighten- 
ing, and looked his honest, quiet pleasure, as differ- 
ent in manner from his twin-sister as a staid, slow, 
proud-stepping heron is different from a flitting, 
fluttering, flame-winged oriole. 

After madame’s introductions, which were hardly 
necessary, as both gentlemen at once recognized 
Sara (the younger one with an acceleration of his 
heart-beats which rather surprised himself), the pro- 
fessor became at once immersed in the mineralogical 
specimens, with Sara to answer his questions. 

His nephew plunged into an animated talk with 
Morton about blue-fishing, and the blond lady di- 
vided her attentions between Molly and the baby, 
whose merry little outbursts soon won the two 
would-be fishermen from their discussion. Molly 
was just then giving an account of her school-teacher, 
talking like a little steam-engine, all dimples, gestures, 
and tossing curls. 

“Why, he isn’t anywhere near as good as Sara in 
books, and you can tangle him up just like a salmon- 
line!” she cried. “It’s lots of fun to see him when 
we all get to asking questions faster’n he can think ; 
but then, he’s awful good about the claws I” 

“The what.?” asked Glendenning. 


82 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“Why, you see, when we girls catch a lobster we 
always keep the claws in our desk, to pass around and 
suck with our bread at lunch (don’t you like lobster- 
claws They’re splendid!), and he don’t mind if we 
sometimes take ’em out in school-hours. He says 
fish is good to make more brains, which we need, and 
when our mouths are full we can’t be buzzing! We 
never had one so nice about that before.” 

“ How wise this modern Aristotle must be ! ” the 
young man broke in amid the laughter. “ But I doubt 
if even a lobster-claw could keep you still ! ” 

The little maid gave him a shy glance, containing 
more of coquetry than her sister would ever know. 

“ I’m pretty still in church,” she said, “ that is, if 
’tisn’t too long. Do you think it’s very bad to just 
look ’round at the clock sometimes ? Our church 
clock’s right under the gallery seats, behind us, and 
it goes the slowest of any I ever saw ! • Sometimes, 
when I’ve waited ’most an hour before I looked 
’round, it won’t be five minutes by that clock! Miss 
True Plunkett’s my Sunday-school teacher ; and one 
Sunday when I had a cold, and my neck was so stiff 
I couldn’t move, she said it didn’t better those old 
Jews any to be a stiff-necked race, but it certainly did 
me. Sometimes Miss Prue talks so’t I can’t under- 
stand just what she means ; but Sara likes her first- 
rate, and so do I too, most generally.” 

“Molly!” came admonishingly from the corner 
where the shelves were, “I’m afraid you’re talking 
too much.” 


HAPPY DAYS. 


83 

“Yes, she is, Sara,” put in Morton earnestly. 
“She’s just rattling!'' 

The madame leaned back, laughing in keenest 
enjoyment. 

“ I had forgotten how delightful it is that children 
maybe in a state of nature,” she said. “Ah, Robare, 
how can we go back to those doll-childs at the hotel, 
with their so fine costumes, and so of-this-world- 
weary airs, now.!* You have no doll-houses, my in- 
fants, no fine toys that move by the machine-work 
within, no bicycles, no anything for play ; what, then, 
does amuse you all the day’s length in this most 
sleepy town } " 

The children stared at her with round, puzzled 
eyes. 

What did they find to amuse them } With the 
cliffs, and the sand, and sea, and the nice little lob- 
ster and clam basins they knew about ; and the count- 
less shells for dishes, and fish-scales for jewellery, and 
kelp for carpets, and dulse and feathery sea-fern for 
decorations. 

“Dear me!” cried Molly, “there’s things enough; 
all we want is time. Here I’ve wasted a whole morn- 
ing darning stockings and talking to you ! ” 

The outburst that followed this naive confession 
brought uneasy Sara to her sister’s side ; and with a 
hand on one of those restless, twitching little shoul- 
ders, she managed to keep her respectably quiet 
through the rest of the call. 

As the guests went down the village street it was 
funny to hear their comments. 


84 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“It ees a most fine collection, -all varieties and 
classified most orderly,” observed the professor, in- 
tent on the minerals. 

“ Such specimens ! And impossible to keep in 
order!” broke out the young man, meaning some- 
thing entirely different. “ But the oldest is a rare 
one, and ” — 

“Ze oldest.^ Yes, but there be some vich are 
mos’ rare of dose later ones, too. But ” — 

“The little feather-head I ” laughed madame out of 
her thought, oblivious of what had gone before, 
“ hvXjolie and bright ” — 

“ Zat so bright one, it ees no feddar-head, Felicie; 
you mistake. That was the rusty, dull ” — 

“ Rusty! Dull ! That so brilliant bird of a child ! 
what mean you, Leon } ” 

“ Child } Who say child ? ” dazedly. 

“ Oh, stop, stop ! ” interposed their nephew, raising 
both hands, “don’t have a family jar over nothing. 
Uncle’s on geology, and auntie on babies ; don’t you 
see } ” and the discussion ended good-naturedly in a 
laugh all around. 

They came every day after that, during their 
lengthened stay of a week, and often the professor 
would press Sara into service to direct him in his 
search for treasures, while madame stayed with Molly 
and baby ; and Morton took many a delightful sail in 
the yacht with Mr. Glendenning after bluefish or 
salmon. 

Those were happy, plentiful days in the little cot- 


HAPPY DAYS. 


85 


tage, for fresh fish or game was almost constantly on 
their table, while the overplus, sold to their richer 
friends, kept baby in milk, and all in necessary 
supplies. 

Besides, madame’s quick eyes soon penetrated into 
the real poverty behind the hospitable, self-respecting 
air of the little household, and she managed in many 
delicate ways to assist them. 

Feeling instinctively that there must be no hint of 
remuneration to Sara for her really valuable services 
as guide to her husband, she struck up a trade in wild- 
flowers, delicate algae, and shells with Molly, buying 
all that the child could bring her (and the little girl 
was famous for these findings), afterwards teaching 
her to mount them in exquisite designs on Bristol- 
board for possible future customers. 

Morton, too, was paid a liberal percentage on 
fishing-tackle, etc., so that among them all the wolf 
was kept decidedly at bay, and Sara felt every night 
like adding a special thanksgiving to her prayers, 
because she was not forced to ask a loan of Squire 
Scrantoun. 


86 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER VIL 

A TEA-PARTY. 

Meanwhile, she was learning to systemize her 
time so as to make the most of it, and, given a fresh 
impetus in her studies by this new companionship, 
spent the days so busily she scarcely had time, till 
night laid her on her pillow, to wonder where father 
might be, and when he would return. 

* So far, with the exception of the storm which had 
proven so fatal to her mother, the season had been 
quite free from gales, or “ breezes ” as the fishermen 
call them ; for with these hardy people a good-sized 
tornado is only a “ stiffish breeze ’’ usually. 

But when these new, delightful friends went away, 
it seemed as if everything changed. Dull, foggy 
days, with fitful gusts, succeeded to the lovely 
month just gone, and the skies were leaden and 
threatening. 

Then, too, little by little, the wolf began creeping 
towards their door, for Sara, in the large liberality of 
her nature, did not well know how to deny the eager 
wants of the children, so long as she had any means 
to gratify them ; and was not so wise in hoarding 


A TEA-PARTY. 8/ 

against a rainy day as an older head might have 
been. 

Still further, to add to her gloom, baby had a 
slight attack of measles, over which she worried 
more than was necessary; and, altogether, August 
was for her a blue month, with only two bright spots 
to recall. 

One of these was when Morton, red and exultant, 
came lugging home a mammoth express package, 
with Molly, fish-knife in hand, dancing about him 
like some crazy Apache squaw about a war-captive, 
though she was only impatient to cut the cord. 

When her wish was finally gratified, Sara’s de- 
lighted eyes beheld two volumes she had long been 
wishing for, and a pretty dress-pattern ; Morton’s 
caught sight of >some tackle that fairly electrified 
him, with a suit of clothes better than he had ever 
owned before; Molly’s darted with lightning speed 
to a neat jacket and hat, also a handsome herbarium 
book for her algae ; while baby set_ up a squeal of 
joy at sight of some novel toys and picture-books, 
leaving Sara to the full appreciation of a dainty 
infant outfit below. 

Of course these most acceptable gifts were from 
the Grandet party, — now in Boston, — who had proven 
themselves thus more constant than most ‘‘summer 
friends,” and generous almost beyond belief, as Sara 
thought. 

The other red-letter day was one when the whole 
family was invited to tea at Miss Prue’s. They 


88 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


went early, as was the fashion in Killamet, Morton 
stiff and conscious in his new suit, and baby filled 
with undisguised admiration for his own new shoes, 
while both girls looked so unusually “ dressed-up ” in 
their Boston finery, that Miss Prue naturally con- 
cluded good Reuben Olmstead must have left his 
family well provided for during his absence, and had 
not the slightest idea how closely pressed they were 
for actual money. 

They had been seated but a few moments, Morton 
gravely staring at the dragon-china with meekly 
folded hands, Molly tilted on the edge of her chair 
like a bird about to fly, and the baby on Sara’s lap 
wide-eyed and inquiring, when Polly thought the 
quiet was growing oppressive, and broke out, — 

“ Pretty Poll ! Pretty Poll ! How d’ye do ? Oh, 
you fools ! ” At which Molly ran over in a rippling 
little giggle, so infectious that every one had to 
join in. 

Miss Prue turned to her with an indulgent smile. 

“ Bless her heart ! It would be dull here if ’tweren’t 
for Polly, wouldn’t it ? Let’s see. I’ve a new game 
somewhere, from Boston ; it’s bits of rhyme and 
scraps of knowledge, I believe ; I never played it, 
but perhaps you and Morton can make it out,” and 
soon the two were seated, bending over a light stand, 
quite happy for the nonce. 

Meanwhile, baby was so impressed with the dig- 
nity and solemnity of the occasion that he kept his 
round eyes fixed unwinkingly upon the parrot (who 


A TEA-PARTY. 


89 


occasionally addressed a remark to him), until the 
weary lids closed, and he dropped his sleepy little 
head over against Sara’s shoulder. 

Then she and Miss Prue had a long, delightsome 
talk, in which she told her good friend all about the 
Grandet party, the order of the King’s Daughters, 
those beautiful, impressive books of Hale’s, and 
something — not a great deal, for Sara was natu- 
rally reticent of her inner life — of the hopes and 
longings kindled by them in her soul. 

As the kind old maid watched her noble, expres- 
sive face, and noted the clinging little figure in her 
arms, she sighed, wondering, — 

“Is here to be another life-long sacrifice ? Are 
these sparkling, youthful hopes to settle down into 
the dull, smouldering fires of duty — a fire which 
will always boil the domestic kettle, and warm the 
family hearth, but never be a beacon-light on the hill 
of effort, to help the world onward.?” Then she 
checked herself. “ Is any life well lived, however 
humble, quite lost to the world .? And does not God 
know better than I where to put her .? ” and thus 
ending her reflections, she turned with a brighter 
look to say, — 

“ My dear, don’t let anything discourage you from 
carrying out your views ! I believe this life of ours 
is like a flight pf steps leading to a throne. ’ When 
we have performed all that is required of us on the 
first step, we must go on and up. But sometimes, 
alas ! we will not do what we should, and have to be 


90 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ordered back. Then how painfully slow seems the 
climb to our former position ! But, if we can only 
always hear that ‘ Come up higher,’ and keep stead- 
ily om, slowly it may be, so slowly the steps seem 
but an inch high, we will surely reach the throne 
in time — or in eternity.’’ 

Sara’s luminous eyes rested intently on her face. 

“ The steps may not all be beautiful or easy,” she 
breathed. 

“ No, nor will be, my dear. There is a little book 
of essays I have, and one is called ‘The Gospel of 
Drudgery ; ’ I want you to read it.” 

Miss Plunkett rose and stepped to the book-case 
on the opposite side of the room, being enjoined, 
sleepily, by Mistress Polly meanwhile, to “Come 
again, and don’t be long ! ” When old Hester ap- 
peared in the doorway, to bob a courtesy, and 
announce, — 

“Tea is served. Miss Prue.” 

Hester was a character in Killamet, and must be 
described. 

She was a pure-blooded African of Guinea, who, 
when a wee child, was rescued from a slave-trader 
by Captain Plunkett, Miss Prue’s father. 

The poor little black baby’s mother had died dur- 
ing the cruel march to the coast, and the little crea- 
ture, become almost a skelefon, and looking more 
like a baby chimpanzee than anything human, was 
made a pet of by the crew on the homeward voyage, 
growing fat and saucy daily, so that when the cap- 


A TEA-PARTY. 


91 


tain presented her to his daughter, then an infant of 
two years, she was as cunning a specimen of a negro 
baby as one often sees. 

Instantly* the fair little Prudence took a great 
fancy to her, thinking her, doubtless, some new 
queer kind of doll ; and from that time the two were 
almost inseparable companions. 

The little stranger was soon given free papers, 
formally adopted, and baptized under the Christian 
name of Hester Plunkett ; and from her twenty-first 
birthday had always received wages for her services. 

Her love for the family, especially Miss Prue, 
almost the only survivor of this especial branch, was 
simply unbounded; and nothing could have tempted 
her to leave the latter. 

Even as she made the simple announcement, her 
great, soft black eyes rested lovingly on her friend 
and mistress, then turned, with a smiling welcome, 
upon the children. 

“ ril tend the baby ef he wakes. Miss Sairay ; let 
me lay him down now,” she said, lifting him with 
her powerful black hands ; “ he likes his old Aunt 
Hester ! ” and she nestled him against her broad 
bosom, and bent her stately white-turbaned head 
caressingly over him. 

Molly, who was always fascinated by her, watched 
every movement, her eyes dancing, and her cheeks 
dimpling with some inner thought. 

“ Come, what are you sparkling over now } ” cried 
Miss Prue, taking the child’s hand to lead her to the 


92 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


dining-room. “ I know you’ve an idea in that little 
brain of yours, because it’s almost ready to jump out 
of your eye-windows ! ” 

Molly gave a little hop — she seldom walked — and 
caught the aged hand in both of hers. 

“ I’ll tell you. Miss Plunkett, but you musn’t tell 
anybody, will you 

“ I’ll try to keep it a secret, Molly.” 

“ Well, what do you s’pose Hester looks like ? ” 

“ Now, Molly ! You wouldn’t make fun of good 
old Hester, would you ? ” 

“But I’m not making fun. Miss Prue, indeed and 
indeedy I’m not, only she does / ” 

“ Well, like what, Molly ? ” 

By this time they had reached the dining-room, 
and Molly drew her behind its door, to whisper 
mysteriously, — 

“ She 'looks just like Rocky Point when there’s a 
high wind. Then the rock stands up there black and 
big and square, just as Hester does ; and her muslin 
turban is the spray up over the top of it, don’t you 
see.?” 

Miss Prue nodded comprehensively, for the resem- 
blance of the tall, straight negress to that bold head- 
land was something she could recognize herself, now 
it was brought to her notice. 

“ I think you’re right, dear ; but come, our supper 
is waiting. Pray excuse me, Sara, for keeping you 
and Morton standing here ; this little lady-bird and I 
have been exchanging confidences behind the door ! ” 


A TEA-PARTY. 


93 


What a supper it was ! Well worth waiting for, 
Morton thought, for the queer foreign-spiced pre- 
serves and the hot pickles (which made Molly wink 
tearful eyes rapidly, and say, ‘‘No more, thank you, 
ma’am ! ” with great promptness) were all there ; be- 
sides dainty cakes, such as only Hester could make, 
and tea that was to the common beverage as nectar 
to vinegar. 

Once Molly paused, inspecting a small cream-cake 
in her hand with a grave air. 

“ What is it, dear ? What are you thinking > ” 
asked Miss Prue, to whom the child was always a 
whole page of fun and epigram. 

“ I was thinking, ma’am, how does this froth get 
inside the cake } ” 

“Molly, Molly! You are too curious,” said her 
sister. 

But now an idea suddenly struck the child, rippling 
and dimpling over her bright face like a breeze over 
a little lake. 

“Oh, I know!” she cried, “I know! You just 
churn the cream, and then pour the dough around it, 
of course ! ” which lucid explanation seemed per- 
fectly satisfactory to herself at any rate. 

All the stiffness of that first half-hour was now 
gone, and the rest of the stay was one riotous frolic, 
in which baby Ned, sweetened by a long nap and a 
good supper in Sara’s arms, joined merrily ; and, as 
Miss Prue watched the little party leave her gate in 
the late dusk, it was through misty eyes, for she 


94 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


could not help thinking of the home she might have 
known, had not the sea claimed her husband for its 
own. 

After this happy day came a few that were anxious 
enough to poor Sara ; for the little hoard was getting 
fearfully low, and now, too, the provisions were nearly 
gone. 

I’m afraid, Morton,” she said one morning, “ if 
we don’t hear something from father this week. I’ll 
have to borrow of Squire Scrantoun.” 

Molly’s nose went up. 

“ I don’t like him ; he’s a scowly man ! Let’s 
borrow of Uncle Adam or Miss Prue.” 

“ But old Adam Standish is nearly as poor as we, 
Molly.” 

“ No, he ain’t,” with a toss of her head ; he’s got 
a heap of money ! He keeps it in an old shot-bag, 
and I’ve seen it myself ; he’s got — well^ as much as 
five dollars, I do believe ! ” 

As this magnificent sum did not impress Sara 
so much as it should, the child concluded to drop 
finances for a while and attend to baby, who was 
busily engaged just then in pulling straws out of the 
broom, a loss the well-used article could ill afford. 

Sara stepped past the two at their frolic and looked 
out of the open door. 

It was a glorious morning, the air washed clean by 
a thunder-storm during the night, and the sea still 
white-capped from its violence. 

As she was watching with admiration its turbulent 


A TEA-PARTY. 


95 


beauty, Morton, who had come to her side, burst 
out, — 

‘‘ Why, Sara, look in the offing, isn’t that the Sea- 
gull at anchor ^ Why, it is, it must be ! Then Jap 
Norris is here, and can tell us about father ! ” 

‘‘ Are you sure, Morton ? I can’t make her out 
from here.” 

“ Well, I can ! I know the old Sea-gull like a 
book ; and look ! look, Sara, if that isn’t Jap this 
minute coming down the street ! ” 

Sara looked, recognizing the straight young figure 
at once, and turned back to her brother with a quick 
pang of foreboding that slightly paled her sweet face. 

“ Morton,” she said huskily, he brings us news 
of father ! ” 


96 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS. 

When the fleet to which the Nautilus belonged 
reached the Banks, everything seemed exceptionally 
propitious. The weather was flne and tranquil for 
March, and the fish fairly asking to be taken. 

In fact, it was all “ too lucky,” as old Captain Sen- 
nett of the Nautilus growled occasionally, he being, 
like all sailors, superstitious to the core, and fond of 
his blow,” as the crew put it. 

They made a “big haul,” with which they put into 
port, and after disposing of it started out again, only 
to make a trip as disastrous as the former had been 
fortunate. There was a week of the “ dirtiest ” kind 
of weather, — head-winds, fogs, and treacherous 
“ breezes,” which strained every timber in the old 
tub of a Nautilus, as she rolled clumsily about in 
the turbulent waves. 

At length there came a night (it was one of those 
in which Sara had watched with baby during the 
measles) when the sea, as if scorning all previous 
performances, seemed lashing itself into a very 
climax of rage. Smutty rags of clouds flew across 


NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS. 


97 


the ominous horizon, and spiteful gusts, apparently 
from every direction of the compass, caught the old 
Nautilus in wild arms, and tossed her about like a 
foot-ball. 

She had sprung a slight leak also, nothing dan- 
gerous in a stanch vessel, but an added straw, which 
might prove the last in this straining wrestle with 
wind and sea, and she did not answer her rudder as 
her steersman could have wished. 

“Will she Stan’ it, cap’n, think ee.^*” asked Reuben 
anxiously, as a momentary pause in the pounding 
and smashing found them together. 

“ God A’mighty knows ! ” was the solemn answer. 
“ If her rudder ” — 

The rest was drowned in a new shriek of the blast, 
and Reuben threw himself flat and clung for dear 
life to the winch, as a wave washed over the deck, 
smashing everything breakable into kindling-wood, 
and almost drowning the two, whom instinct and 
long practice helped to cling, in spite of the fact that 
the very breath was beaten out of their bodies. 

But this, bad as it seemed, was only the beginning 
of troubles. There were hours of just such expe- 
riences ; and Reuben’s strength, robust as it was, 
began to fail him beneath the strain. 

In such storms there is no rest for the sailor. 
Something is needed of him every moment, espe- 
cially upon these fishing smacks and schooners, 
which carry such small crews ; and often forty or 
more hours will pass with literally no rest at all. 


98 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


They labored on until evening set in once more, 
and all hands had just been ordered aft to secure a 
broken spar, when Nick the boy uttered a fearful 
cry, which gave every man a start. They followed 
the direction of his horrified gaze, and saw a danger 
which paralyzed the stoutest nerve. Just ahead was 
a “ gray-back,” — sailor parlance for a wave which is 
to all other waves as a mountain to a hillock, — and 
Reuben felt their doom was sealed, for the old Nau- 
tilus, disabled as she was already, could never stand 
that terrific onslaught. 

With one short, desperate prayer he closed his 
eyes and clung with the grip of the dying to the 
shattered spar. 

It was all over in a moment. A roar like a thou- 
sand thunders, a stunning blow impossible to imagine, 
and then — a broad, wreck-strewn expanse, amid 
which those few poor atoms of humanity showed 
but as black dots for a moment, soon to be sucked 
beneath the seething waves. 

By dawn of the next day the storm was over, for 
that gray-back had been one of those climaxes in 
which nature seems to delight ; and, having done its 
worst, the winds hushed their fury, and wailed away 
into a chill, sullen, but clearing morning. 

The remainder of the fleet, scattered in every di- 
rection by the storm, did not discover the absence of 
the Nautilus till mid-forenoon, when bits of wreck- 
age, into which they sailed, soon told the pitiful 
story. 


NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS. 


99 


Towards noon two bodies were found, that of the 
captain and steersman, afloat in the pilot-house, but 
no more ; the fate of Reuben, the boy, and the three 
other hands could only be conjectured. 

The next day the drowned men were given honora- 
ble burial ; and many of the remaining vessels, having 
been almost disabled by the fury of the elements, had 
to make for the nearest port for repairs. 

Then came a fair and ** lucky ” run, in which not a 
hand could be spared to carry the news home, for 
these fishermen learn to look almost with contempt 
upon death and disaster. Many a poor fellow with 
a broken limb must go days, even weeks, before he 
can reach a physician ; and the friends on shore are 
left as long in ignorance of their fate. 

Nearly a month had passed, then, since that awful 
night, when Jasper Norris, dreading his task as he 
had never dreaded any physical danger in his life, 
walked down the village street toward Sara and 
Morton in the cottage doorway. 

The former watched him with a growing feeling of 
suffocation and tightness about her throat and heart, 
for the droop of his figure was ominous. 

Had there been good news he would have given a 
sailors’ hurrah at sight of them, and bounded on, 
waving his cap in welcome. But, still in dead 
silence, he turned into the little broken gate, and 
walked up the path to the door. 

Sara, quite white now, and leaning for support 
against the jamb, kept her piercing eyes on his face. 


lOO 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


though his would not meet their gaze ; while Mor- 
ton rolled great frightened orbs from one to the 
other, as from within came unconscious Molly’s glee- 
ful babble, and the baby’s sweet little trills of 
laughter. 

“Jasper!” gasped Sara m desperation, “why — 
why don’t you speak 

He looked up, and made a hopeless gesture with 
his hands. 

“ Don’t, Sairay,” he said huskily, “ don’t give way, 
but — but I’ve bad news.” 

A great trembling now shook her limbs, and she 
lifted her hands as if to ward off a blow, but her 
agonized eyes seemed dragging the words out of him. 

“Your father, Sairay, he’s — he’s — the Nautilus 
went to pieces, like the tub she wor, and he’s ” — 

“ Drowned! ” screamed Morton, putting his hands 
to his ears. 

“Who’s drowned ?” cried Molly, running to them. 
“Why, Jap, that you ? Where’s pa ? ” 

Sara, who had not spoken, at this dropped to the 
doorstep, and, doubling up in a forlorn little heap, 
buried her face in her hands. Morton burst out cry- 
ing ; and Molly, with a puzzled look around, joined in 
promptly, thinking it the proper thing to do, though 
she had not yet an idea of what had really happened. 

But why prolong the heart-rending scene, as little 
by little Jasper stammered out all the story he had 
to tell, and the poor children began to realize how 
doubly orphaned they were ? 


NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS. 


lOI 


This was a grief before which the loss of their 
stepmother seemed as nothing. They had loved 
their big, kind, good-natured father as a companion, 
far more than a parent ; and the thought of never 
meeting him again, of never hearing his well-known 
greeting after his absences, — 

^‘Waal, waal, younkers, come and kiss your old 
dad ! Did you miss him much, eh } ” — seemed in- 
tolerable. 

Sara, under this new blow, for a time lost all self- 
control, and broke into such a passion of grief, that 
Jasper, much frightened, ran for the nearest neigh- 
bor, Mrs. Updyke. 

She soon appeared, — a gaunt woman, with a 
wrinkled visage, and a constant sniff. 

“ Land sakes ! ” she cried, upon hearing Jasper’s 
ill news, “ Yeouw don’t say! Well, well, it’s a dis- 
position o’ Providence, to be sure I ” by which she 
doubtless meant a dispensation, though it did not 
much matter, for no one paid the slightest attention 
to her moral axioms just then. 

By this time the news had spread, and the neigh- 
bors were flocking to the afflicted cottages ; for all 
the drowned men had lived in Killamet, and were 
well known, while each had left a wife, mother, or 
some weeping female relative, to mourn his loss. 

But all agreed that the Olmstead case was hard- 
est, or, if they did not, Mrs. Updyke took pains 
to impress that idea upon them with a decisive sniff ; 
for, being a next-door neighbor, she naturally desired 


102 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


that the affliction close by should outrank all other 
distress in the village. 

But, finding Sara oblivfous just now to everything 
but her grief, she left her to pace back and forth, 
wringing her hands and moaning like some caged 
creature, contenting herself with telling the chil- 
dren “they could mourn for their poor pa jest as 
well with less noise,” while she prepared to receive 
the sympathetic callers with an intense satisfaction, 
which the solemnity of the occasion could not 
quench. 

“Yes, it’s a awful visitation,” she sniffed, as the 
curious, friendly women flocked in ; “I don’t know’s 
I ever hearn tell of a harrowin’er ! Four orphans, 
with no pa nor ma! ” (Sniff, sniff.) “ Molly, when 
that babby squirms so, is it pins or worms ? ” 

“ He wants Sara,” sobbed the poor child, whose 
laughter and dimples were now all drowned in tears. 

But Sara, unheeding of everybody, still kept up 
that wild walk back and forth, back and forth, every 
groan seeming wrenched from her very soul ; and 
poor baby had to squirm, — and stand it. 

Ah ! that is a lesson that comes almost with our 
first breath ! 

“ Poor child ! ” said one little dumpling of a 
woman. “ Let me take him home : he’ll be amused 
with my Johnnie, I know. Come baby ! ” and, 
managing at length to coax him away, she took him 
to more cheerful surroundings, where he was soon 
quite as happy sucking a peppermint lozenge, and 


NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS. 


103 


watching Johnnie with his toys, as if no father lay 
buried under the cruel, restless sea. 

Meanwhile, awed by Sara’s intense grief, the 
women stood about, quite powerless, and gazed at 
her. 

“ Cain’t we do nothin’ ^ ” asked Betty Fulcher, who 
could never endure inaction. “ What is there to 
dof” 

Nothin’,” sniffed Mrs. Updyke solemnly, “least- 
wise, not now. Ye see, thar won’t be no funeral to 
make ready fur, an’ the sermon won’t be till a Sun- 
day. I’ve gin the house a hasty tech to red it up ; 
an’ ef the Armatts an’ the Simcotes (them o’ his 
fust wife’s kin, an’ his own, ye know) should come 
over from Norcross, we’ll hev to divide ’em up. I 
kin sleep two on ’em, an’ eat four, I guess, ef the 
rest on ye’ll do as much.” 

Each one agreed to do their best, this cannibal- 
sounding proposition meaning nothing worse than 
true fishwives’ hospitality ; and the group had gath- 
ered in a’ knot to discuss in low tones the children’s 
“ prospec’s ” for the future, when Mrs. Norris and 
Miss Plunkett came in. 

They were cousins, and something alike in face 
and manner, though the spirituality in Miss Prue’s 
visage became a sort of shrewd good-humor in that 
of Mrs. Norris ; and now each proceeded in a char- 
acteristic way to her duty. 

Miss Prue went straight to Sara, and took the 
poor, unstrung little bundle of nerves into her arms. 


104 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


her very touch, both firm and gentle, bringing com- 
fort to the half-crazed girl. She did not say much of 
anything, only kissed her and wept with her ; but 
soon the violence of Sara’s grief was subdued, and 
her heart-rending moans sank into long, sobbing 
breaths. 

Mrs. Norris, after one pitying look, turned to the 
women. 

“ Don’t you think, friends, it is possible that see- 
ing so many makes her worse ? We all want to do 
something, I know. Mrs. Deering, you’re so good 
with children, why not take the twins home with you 
for to-day ? Perhaps your own bairn ies will help to 
comfort them ! And, Betty Pulcher, their clothes 
will need some fixing, no doubt, for Sunday. You’re 
just the one to manage that ; and get Mandy Marsh 
and Zeba Osterhaus to help you : they’ll be glad to, 
I know. And you, Mrs. Updyke, and Mrs. Shooter, 
— were you going to look after the cooking, and so 
on ? There’ll likely be a crowd over for the sermon.” 

As each one was given just the work she pre- 
ferred, and as there seemed little more chance of 
excitement here, they soon separated, not realizing 
they had been sent home, however ; and a blissful 
quiet reigned. 

When Mrs. Norris stepped outside to close the 
gate after the last one, a voice arrested her. 

“ Mother ! mother ! ” 

She turned. 

“Why, Jap, what are you doing there as her 


NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS. 


105 


son came around one of the rear corners of the 
little building. 

“ I’m just — waiting.- Say, mother,” tremulously, 
“ will it — kill her .? ” 

“Kill her.? Who, Sairay .? No, indeed. She’s 
lots better now. Gracious ! you look sick yourself, 
child ! ” 

“ I’ll never do such a thing again, mother, — 
never! I felt as if I’d stabbed her to the heart. Do 
— do you s’pose it’ll make her — turn agin me.? ” 

“ Gracious ! No ; what an idee I Why, you’ve 
worked yourself into a regular chill, I declare. Go 
home, and tell Hannah to fix you up a good stiff 
dose of Jamaica ginger right away. Well, I never I ” 

“Then you think she’s coming out of it all right .?” 

“ I think she’s enough sight better’n you’ll be, if 
you don’t go and do what I tell you this minute ; 
now hustle I ” and Jasper, knowing his mother’s deci- 
sive ways, walked away without more ado. 

But not home; not to Hannah’s ministering care 
and the Jamaica ginger, but to a little cove by the 
sea where, with his body thrown flat on the rocks, 
and his face buried in his hands, he wept like a child 
himself, for pure sympathy with that orphaned girl 
who was so dear to him. 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


I06 


CHAPTER IX. 

REBELLION. 

But the poor, perhaps fortunately, have little 
time for mourning. As the first hint of the long 
winter came in on the September s equinox, poor 
Sara had to rouse herself, and she began to look about 
her with despairing eyes. Friends, so far, had been 
most 'kind, and the little family had never actually 
suffered ; but now that the few summer resources for 
picking up an occasional dollar were ended, what 
had they to look forward to in the long months to 
come } 

Reuben Olmstead had owned the poor little cot- 
tage in which they lived, so a roof over their heads 
might be counted on, but not much besides ; for his 
share in the last fishing-expedition, promptly paid 
over by Jasper, had soon been swallowed up by the 
family’s needs, so greatly reduced had they become 
before it arrived. 

Sara was not, perhaps, a good financier, — few 
girls of barely eighteen are, — but she had done her 
best, and her feeling had often been that of a 
mother-bird, wearied by a long day’s search for 


REBELLION. 


107 


worms, who always finds the mouths stretched wide 
as ever, clamoring for more. The task of filling 
those mouths seemed a hopeless one. 

“What can I do.? ” she thought, as she sat huddled 
over the tiny fire one day, waiting for the children 
to come home from school. “ The flour is all gone, 
and the potatoes nearly, and so little wood ! ’’ 

She shivered, then turned to see if the sleeping 
baby were well covered, and resumed her dreary 
musing. 

“ I don’t wonder our people almost welcome a 
wreck when they are so poor. Of course it’s wicked ; 
but if there must be storms, and ships have got to 
go to pieces — God forgive me ! I believe I was 
almost wishing for one, myself! If there were only 
something I could do ; but what can I .? Here are 
the children ; they must be cared for, and the baby 
above all, — what can one do when there’s a baby to 
look after.? I suppose some would say, ask her 
people to take him ; but who is there .? Her mother 
is dead, and her father a deaf old man who can’t 
live long ; she had no sisters, and her brothers are 
sailors who are off all the time. There’s only her 
cousin ’Liza, and I couldn’t give the poor little fellow 
up to that hard, coarse woman ; besides, I promised 
her and I promised father to care for him myself. 
If I could go out into the world, it seems as if I 
might find a place ; I am strong and young, and not 
afraid to work, but here there is no opportunity.” 

Then, after a long, silent gaze into the fire, — 


I08 SARA, A PRINCESS. 

“ God certainly knows all about it ; he could help 
me if he would ; I wonder why he doesn’t } Does he 
treat us as I sometimes do baby — corner us all up 
till there’s only one way to go, and so make us walk 
straight.? But to walk straight now looks as if it 
led to starvation.” 

Her head drooped lower, and her thoughts grew 
too roving and uncontrolled for connected expres- 
sion ; in fact, her brooding had become almost actual 
dreaming, when the door swung back with a bang, 
and the two children rushed in, Molly screaming 
with laughter and resistance as she fled before Mor- 
ton, who was close at her heels. 

“ Sara! Sara ! make him stop ! I ” — 

She was stopped herself by a sudden crash, and 
all three stood in blank affright and astonishment as 
the oval, gilt-framed mirror, which hung between the 
front windows, fell to the floor in the midst of them, 
and shivered into a dozen pieces. It had been one 
of the proud possessions of their own mother when 
she came to the house as a bride, and was the prin- 
cipal ornament of their humble living-room, as all 
swiftly remembered ; and besides, there was that 
gloomy superstition which had been instilled into 
them since infancy, — a broken mirror meant death 
and disaster. 

Even Sara was not proof against this. In fact, 
there are scarcely any of us, no matter how good and 
wise we may be, who do not have some such pet 
remnant of barbarism clinging to our souls ; and 


REBELLION. 


109 


Sara now stood, pale and aghast as the others, look- 
ing at that fateful, shattered glass ! The baby, thus 
rudely awakened, set up a lively scream, which broke 
the spell of awed silence that seemed to have held 
them all until now. Molly, with a flounce of resig- 
nation, cried out, — 

“Well, it’s more trouble, of course, but we’re get- 
ting used to it fast ! ” 

Sara said, rather sharply, — 

“ Go get the baby, Molly, and be quiet, if you can ; 
and, Morton, help me gather up the bits.” While 
Morton, who was already down on the floor, re- 
marked in his slow, thoughtful way, — 

“ I don’t see what we’ve done, Sara, to have things 
keep happening so dreadful, do you.^” 

Sara did not know. Just then the usual sweetness 
of her nature seemed turning to gall. If she could 
have put her thoughts into words, she would have 
said it seemed as if some awful Thing, instead of 
the God of love, sat up aloft mocking at her wretched- 
ness ; and she felt for the instant, as she crossed the 
floor after the old broom, an impotent rage, almost 
scorn, of this mighty power which could stoop to 
deal such malignant blows against a helpless girl. 

It was but a moment, — one of those fierce, in- 
stantaneous rebellions of the natural heart, which 
overcome us all at times of utter wretchedness, — 
then, just as she laid hands on the broom, there 
came a cry, a choked, wondering cry from Mor- 
ton, — 


I lO 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“Sara! OSara!” 

She turned ; what now ? 

The boy, in removing the larger fragments of the 
glass from the boards at the back of the frame, had 
come across something slipped in between, and now 
held it up with shaking hands and shining eyes. It 
was a neat pile of greenbacks, laid out straight and 
trim, with a paper band pinned around them. Sara 
looked, comprehended, and felt like falling on her 
knees in repentant gratitude I 

But, instead, she sprang towards him, and caught 
the package from his hands. Twice she counted it ; 
could it be possible ? Here were three hundred 
dollars ; a sum that seemed like a fortune to the girl. 

Three hundred dollars between them and suffer- 
ing ; and the Thing up aloft became instantly a 
Friend, a Father, and a God 1 

Molly, attempting a pirouette with the baby, now 
stumbled amid the debris ^ and for an instant dis- 
tracted Sara’s attention, as she sprang to steady her, 
and catch the imperilled little one from her irre- 
sponsible arms, and Morton remarked hesitantly, — 
“Say, Sara, I guess I wasn’t feeling just right 
about things, and I declare this makes me sort of 
ashamed ! ” 

“ Ashamed ? Pshaw ! Well, it doesn’t me I ” cried 
Molly, dancing about. “Now I can have a new 
dress, and some shoes — 

“ ‘ Way hay, storm along, John, 

Old Stormy, he ’ ” — 


REBELLION. 


I I I 

“ Molly ! Molly ! How often must I tell you 
not to sing those coarse sailor songs ? Now, do 
sit down, before you cut your feet on this glass. 
Morton, you see poor mother did divide that money, 
after all. I presume she 'left out just a few dollars 
for every-day expenses, which was what baby 
threw in the fire, but this must be the bulk of 
the money that father brought from Squire Scran- 
toun’s.” 

“Yes,” said Morton, still with solemn emphasis; 
“and perhaps, Sara, broken looking-glasses don’t 
always mean that somebody’s going to die ; if they 
' did, this would have broken last summer, wouldn’t 
it.?” 

“I don’t know just what to think, Morton,” 
''squeezing the baby for very joy, while this great 
gladness made her eyes brilliant, “ only I guess we 
aren’t forgotten, after all ! I want to remember that 
always now, no matter how sorrowful we may be ; 
will you help me, Morton .? ” 

“If I don’t forget myself,” said her brother; “it’s 
kinder hard to feel good when everything goes con- 
trary, but I’ll try ; ” and as he spoke, she saw him 
select a sliver of the broken glass, and, wrapping 
it in a bit of paper, lay it away in a drawer where he 
was allowed to keep his few treasures. 

“Why, what’s that for, Morton.?” she asked curi- 
ously. 

He flushed a little, then said very low,— 

“ It’s to make us remember,” and she felt that the 


1 12 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


whole circumstance must have made a deep impres- 
sion on the boy. 

Not so Molly. She mourned the glass because 
now she had no better place before which to arrange 
her curls than in one of the larger pieces left, which, 
being cracked, gave her such a resemblance to a cer- 
tain old fisherman with a broken nose, who was her 
special aversion, that she hated to look at herself, 
which was, possibly, not a bad thing, for she was in 
danger of growing vain of her pretty, piquant face 
these days. 

But for a long time Sara went about the humble 
home with a humbler heart. She felt that she had 
been a traitor to her Kingly Father, and took the 
pretty little white cross madame had sent her and 
pinned it up, face inwards, against the wall. 

“ I am not worthy to wear it,” she said, “ until I 
have done something to atone for my rebellion.” 

But the winter passed quietly away ; and, if no 
opportunity offered for any great deed of atonement, 
there were always the little worries of every day to 
be patiently borne, not the least of which was a sort 
of nagging spirit which had gone abroad among the 
old neighbors and friends of the Olmstead family. 
Possibly they were a trifle jealous of Sara’s looks 
and bearing ; it may be those who had predicted 
failure for her, “ because them as keeps so stiddy to 
books ain’t apt to hev much sense at things what 
caounts,” were disappointed that she succeeded so 
well, or, — let us be charitable, — perhaps they 


REBELLION. 


II3 

thought the children all needed a little maternal 
scolding on general principles ; anyhow, whatever 
they thought, there was something unpleasant in 
the air. 

Sara felt it keenly, and drew still farther into her 
shell of reticence, keeping closely to her studies and 
home duties, until the neighbors had some excuse 
for their plaints that “she didn’t care for nothin’ 
nor nobody but them pesky books ! ” 

One day Mrs. Updyke came in, sniffing as usual, 
and casting a hasty glance about the room with her 
cold, restless eyes. 

“ How d’ye do, Sairay ? ” she remarked, loosening 
her shawl. “ I thort as how ye mought be lonesome, 
so I come over an’ brung my knittin’ a while ; you 
got some on hand tew, I s’pose ? ” 

“Well, not knitting, but I’ve sewing,” said Sara, 
trying to feel hospitable, and wondering what Mrs. 
Updyke would think if she should confess that she 
scarcely knew the meaning of that word “lonesome.” 
“ Let me take your hood and shawl, won’t you.? ” 

“Waal, while I set ; is the babby’s well as usual.?” 
with a keen glance at the little fellow, who was hap- 
pily dragging a pasteboard cart on spool wheels 
about the floor. 

“ Very well, thank you; and grows so fast! He 
walks nicely now, and can say ‘ Monnie,’ and ‘ Mawta,’ 
and ‘Wawa,’ — that’s me, — besides several other 
words.” 

“H’m ; got any flannils onto him.? ” 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


II4 

Oh, yes ; I made some out of father’s old ones,” 
with a sigh at the beloved name. 

“ Ye did, hey Hope they fit som’ers near.” 

She now critically examined the room once more ; 
but as it was far neater than her own, she could not 
reasonably find any fault there, so started on a new 
tack. 

“ How old’s Morton ? ” 

“Twelve next summer.” 

“ Gittin’ to be a big boy, ain’t he ? ” 

“Yes, and such a good one ! He is a great help 
to me.” 

“ Waal, he orter be ; some boys o’ twelve aims 
their own livin’, don’t ye know ? ” 

“ Yes ; and Morton can do something when it comes 
warmer, but he needs more schooling yet, though, 
indeed, he often does odd jobs on a Saturday that 
bring in a little. He’s an industrious boy, and I want 
him to have a good education.” 

“ Waal, as to thet, some folks thinks too much o’ 
book-lamin’, / say! Your fayther didn’t hev much 
o’ it to boast on, an’ see what a good pervider he was. 
Books is well enough, but sense is better, an’ fore- 
handedness is best o’ all.” 

As she talked, her needles clicked sharply amid 
the clouded blue yarn of her half-formed sock, 
and her eyes, almost as sharp, kept roving about, 
while the uneasy nose seemed determined to root out 
anything that might escape them. Just then Molly 
came in breezily, her curls flying, and her cheeks a 


REBELLION. 


II5 

• bright pink, and, seeing the visitor, managed, all in 
one instant, to give Sara a lightning glimpse of a 
most disgusted little visage, even while she turned 
with a dimpling smile to say, — 

“ Why, Mrs. Updyke, is it you } Then that must 
be why Zeba Osterhaus and Betty Fulcher were 
crossing the street in front of your house ; I guess 
they couldn’t get in.” 

“ Crossin’ the street — where ? Jest below } ” be- 
ginning to wind up her yarn hurriedly. “ Hed they 
railly been to my haouse ? ” 

'' Well, I’m not sure, but I think so ; I didn’t ask 
’em where they’d been.” 

“ And be they to thet little stuck-up Mis’ Gurney’s 
naow ? ” 

“ They went in there — yes.” 

H’m. Jest bring my shawl, Sairay. Come to 
think on’t. I’ve got an arrant there myself this arter- 
noon — come nigh to disremembering it. Waal, 
good-day ; why don’t ye come over ever ? When ye 
want advice, or anythin’. I’m allers there,” and the 
woman ambled swiftly away, having quite forgotten 
the lecture she had prepared for the shiftless, book- 
ish gal ” she was leaving, and only intent on learning 
what Zeba and Betty could want with her opposite 
neighbor. 

Molly dropped into a chair, and laughed merrily. 

Didn’t I get rid of her slick, though ? Say, Sara, 
what does she make you think of ? ” 

“ Hush, Molly, she’s a good soul, and means well.” 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


I l6 

“ So’s a cow, but you don’t want her trampling all 
pver your garden ! I’ll tell you what she’s like — an 
old rabbit in a cap. She keeps her nose going just 
the same, and her ears are even longer.’’ 

“Molly! Molly!” 

“ Well, it’s so, and you can’t deny it. Do you 
know, Sara, she stopped Morton and me this morn- 
ing, when we were going to school, and told him it 
was a shame for him to ‘ set araound, a-livin’ on his 
sister, and he ought to get a berth in one of the 
fishing-smacks, and would if he had any grit to him.’ 
It made Mort as blue as anything, and he’s gone 
down to Uncle Jabez Wanamead’s now, to see about 
shipping.” 

“Molly, are you stiref' springing up in excite- 
ment. “I won’t have it. He’s too young, and hasn’t 
had half schooling enough ; and, Molly, are you cer- 
tain he went there } ” 

Molly nodded, quite enjoying this excitement in 
her usually placid sister. 

“ Then I must go after him, and leave you to tend 
Neddie. Oh, why can’t people mind their own 
affairs ? ” 

Poor Sara, trembling all over, started hastily 
towards the wardrobe for her outer wraps, when a 
stamping outside the door arrested her, and in a 
moment the boy entered, knocking the last bit of 
snow from his boots as he did so. 

Sara’s eyes, bent upon him, discovered something 
in his expression which made her cry out, — 


REBELLION. 


II7 

“ Morton, what have you been doing ? ” 

“Doing.? Why” — 

“Tell me the truth!” she commanded, almost 
fiercely. 

He turned upon Molly with sudden anger. 

“ Have you been tattling .? I’ll bet you have ! ” 

“ No, but I told Sara ; you didn’t tell me not to.” 

“ Lots of good ’t would have done, if I had I You 
never kept a thing in your life — never I ” 

“ Did, too, Morton Olmstead I ” her pout melting 
swiftly into a mischievous smile. 

“ Well, what, I’d like to know .? ” 

“My shell chain — so there! You’ve tried and 
tried to get it away, and you never could ! ” at which 
comforting remembrance she broke into a laugh, 
which was so infectious even Morton had to smile. 

But he turned from her with a disdainful gesture, 
only to meet Sara’s anxious, questioning eyes. 

“ Well, I’ve shipped,” he answered doggedly, 
“ that’s what ! ” 

“ Morton ! ” With the word all the strength 
seemed to go out of her, and she dropped weakly 
into a chair. 

“ Who with .? ” she asked sternly, for once forget- 
ting even grammatical rules in her intense dismay. 

“With Uncle Jabez Wanamead ; he’s going out in 
a week or two, and needs a boy.” 

“ Morton, you can’t go ! ” a determined look set- 
tling over her white face. “ It’s a rough, dreadful 
life ! Old Jabez drinks like a fish, and you’ll have to 


I 1 8 SARA, A PRINCESS. 

mix his grog a dozen times a day ; then you’ll have 
all the dirty work to do, day and night, and be sent 
aloft where a cat couldn’t cling, with the boat pitch- 
ing like a sturgeon, and, as likely as not, be thrown 
to the deck with a broken arm, if you’re not killed 
outright. And when all’s said and done, you’ll never 
be anything — ^;//thing but a fisherman ! ” 

What else was pa ? ” stoutly. “ Anybody’d think 
you was ashamed of him ! ” 

She hesitated for a moment, and in her excitement 
began pacing the room, her face working with con- 
tending emotions, while the children sat still and 
watched her, awed into silence. At length she 
stopped before them, and seated herself in the chair 
which had always been that father’s when at home, 
and said, in a voice so sweet and sad that it thrilled 
even Molly’s careless little soul, — 

“ No, Morton, never, never ashamed of our father ! 
Instead, I love and revere him, for he was a true, good 
man, — * one of nature’s noblemen,’ as Miss Prue once 
said, — but, listen, Morton ! It wasn’t because he 
was a fisherman, but in spite of it ; for, though it is a 
life that makes men brave, sturdy, fearless, and hon- 
est, it makes them also rough, profane, and careless 
in life and death ; in fact, it develops their bodies, 
but not their minds or souls. 

‘‘ And, O Morton, I so want you to be all that 
father was, and something more. I want you to be 
educated and refined. That Mr. Glendenning was as 
brave as the best of our fishermen, and dared face 


REBELLION. 


II9 

any storm, but how kind he was, and gentle ! How 
respectful to poor Zeba, how thoughtful for his aunt 
and uncle, and what a gentleman in every way ! 
Morton, I want yotc to be a gentleman too.” 

“ He can’t, Sara,” put in Molly, her eyes big and 
round, “ he’s too poor ; a man’s got to have at least 
a hundred dollars to be a gentleman, and Morton 
hasn’t but three cents.” 

Sara smiled, and the boy looked slowly from one 
to the other in a ruminating way. 

“ But everybody’s twitting me with being a lazy 
good-for-nothing, Sara, and I can’t stand it ! Be- 
sides, I told Uncle Jabe I’d go, and now I’ve got to.” 

“ You can’t ; I forbid it ! ” her eyes flashing. “Go 
at once and tell him that it is not to be thought of.” 

It was an unwise speech, as Sara instantly felt ; for 
Morton, though he could be coaxed into almost any- 
thing, was worse than a mule when driven. Now 
the dogged look she was learning to dread settled 
over his face, and he squared his shoulders sturdily. 

“ Well, I guess you’ll find I can, Sara Olmstead, 
and it will take somebody older and bigger’n you to 
stop me, too ! So ‘ forbid ’ till you’re tired, if you 
like; I’ve given my word, and I’m going — that’s 
settled ! ” 

The poor girl’s heart sank like lead, and she could 
have bitten her unruly tongue out for those foolish 
words. She knew only too well that Morton would 
have the support of nearly all their friends in Killa- 
met, who could see no reason why he should not fol- 


120 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


low his father’s calling, and begin, like him, at the 
bottom of the ladder, as “ the boy.” 

Though they knew the hardness of the life, they 
reasoned that it “ helped toughen a youngster, and 
make a man of him.” To them, Sara’s ideas were 
foolish and high-flown, their notion of a “gentle- 
man ” being too often associated with city “lubbers ” 
who came down to spy out the land — and sea — in 
their ridiculous knickerbockers and helmets, and who 
did not know a jib from a spanker, or had any idea 
when a sailor spoke of the “hull” of his vessel, that 
he referred to anything but the sum of its component 
parts ! Gentlemen, as a class, were not held in high 
esteem at Killamet. Even Captain Norris laughed 
at fine manners, and would doubtless say, — 

“ Oh, give the boy a chance to try his sea-legs, if 
he wants to — a little toughening won’t hurt him.” 

No one but Miss Prue would thoroughly sympa- 
thize with, and stand by her, and what were she and 
Miss Prue against so many ? 

They ate their supper in a glowering silence, unusual 
in that cottage, even Molly for once being oppressed 
by the gloomy faces about her ; then, still in silence, 
she washed the few dishes, while Sara undressed the 
baby ; Morton, meanwhile, taking up a school-book, 
in which he sat apparently absorbed, until his twin, 
happening to pass behind him, stopped, and, with a 
flip of her dish-towel, cried out, — 

“ Why-y, Mort Olmstead, you’re studying your 
g’oggerfy upside down ! ” 


REBELLION. 


12 


He gave her a scowl, but his face flushed sensi- 
tively, as he quickly reversed the book, and Sara, 
turning a little from the fire, where she was cuddling 
the baby, met his eyes with so loving and tender a 
look that he could scarcely bear it. Something rose 
in his throat, threatened to rise in his eyes too, and 
feeling that his only safety lay in flight, he muttered 
that he had an errand down town, caught up his hat 
and worsted tippet, and ran out of the door, nearly 
knocking some one over who stood upon the step. 

“Well, I like being welcomed with open arms,” 
laughed a manly voice outside ; “ but there is such a 
thing as too hearty a greeting, eh, Morton ? ” and the 
boy, too dazed to speak, re-entered the room, followed 
by Mr. Robert Glendenning. 


122 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER X. 

ROBERT GLENDENNING. 

Sara rose, with the now sleeping baby in her 
arms, and stood with the firelight playing over her 
noble young form, and with something — was it the 
firelight too.? — flushing her sweet, sensitive face. 
She had no idea what a picture she made, nor how 
fair she appeared in the eyes of the young man in 
the doorway ; for her thoughts were full of chagrin 
at what seemed the untidiness of the room, with 
baby’s clothes and the children’s books scattered 
about, and the fact that she had on an old, worn 
dress, instead of the Boston cashmere. For she did 
not realize that our most beautiful moments come 
from thoughts within, and are quite independent of 
dress and adornment, and that to-night the struggle 
she had been through made her expression so lovely, 
she had never been more attractive. She held out 
the hand that could best be spared from the little 
one’s support, and said cordially, — 

“ I’m very glad to see you, Mr. Glendenning ; are 
your aunt and uncle here .? ” 

“No, Miss Olmstead ; I left them in Boston, and 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 


123 


just ran down for a day or two, before I go West 
once more. I — had business.” 

She saw him seated before she stepped to the 
alcove bed to lay the baby down, then, coming back, 
took a seat on the other side of the fireplace, and 
asked softly, — 

“ Have you heard ? ” 

“Yes,” in the same tone; “Miss Zeba told me. 
You did not write to auntie ? ” 

“ I could not — yet.” 

There was a little pause, which was broken by an 
outburst from the other side of the room, where the 
children were supposed to be studying. 

“ I tell you 'tis too, Morton Olmstead. I’ll ask 
Sara, now ! ” 

“ Well, Molly, what is it ? ” she turned to ask. 

“ Isn’t'it right to say ‘seven and six are twelve 
Morton says it isn’t.” 

“Why, certainly,” began Sara obliviously, when 
the guest interposed, — 

“ How’ll seven and do, Molly ? Perhaps that 
will suit Morton better.” 

Molly tossed her head at her grinning brother, 
pouting an instant, then broke into a giggle, as she 
caught the full force of the sell, and went on with 
her sums, while Sara remarked, — 

“ I am not quick at such things, Mr. Glendenning. 
I wish I were ! You spoke of going West just now ; 
do you go soon ? ” 

“ Yes ; my home is in Chicago. I have been East 


24 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


nearly six months on business for my firm, and now 
am recalled.” 

She looked pensively into the fire, and he thought 
he heard a little sigh, which perhaps encouraged him 
tor go on, though it was with something like embar- 
rassment that he said, — 

“ I felt before going so far that I ought to make a 
call on some of the good people here : it may be 
years before I return.” 

‘‘H’m,” muttered Molly; “I tell you, if I ever 
get away I’ll never want to come back.” 

“ Well, nobody’d want to have you, either,” mut- 
tered her brother in return. “ A girl who can’t add 
two simple little numbers ! ” 

Molly contented herself with making a face at 
him, and the two by the fire continued their rather 
patchy discourse : — 

“I have sometimes thought,” said Sara, “that we 
will have to leave here now, though I haven’t much 
of an idea where we should go, or what I could do — 
but I must do something soon.” 

He was longing to ask all sorts of questions, but 
dared not ; instead, he leaned forward, and said 
earnestly, — 

“Miss Olmstead, I have been thinking of that, 
and I want you to promise me you will not take any 
decisive step without consulting my aunt. If I had 
known — all, I would have brought her with me, but 
here is her latest address,” producing a card. “ Write 
her everything, and let her counsel you, will you ? ” 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 


125 


She bowed her head. 

It’s very kind of you all to care, and if you are 
sure she would not be annoyed” — 

“ Annoyed ? What an idea ! Why, aren’t you 
both daughters of the King > Doesn’t that make 
you sisters ? I know you will not break your word. 
Miss Olmstead.” 

No, she won’t,” said Molly briskly; ‘'when she 
says she is going to send us to bed early, she always 
does it.” 

“Molly!” cried Sara, half-laughing, half-angry, 
“I think it must be your bedtime, now.” 

“ There ! That’s just because you want to talk to 
Mr. Glendenning,” whined the child. “ Last night, 
’cause you was lonesome, you let us sit up till nine. 
I don’t think it’s fair ! ” 

“ Well,” laughed the young man, to cover Sara’s 
embarrassment, for she had blushed like a rose at this, 
“ I did have something in my pocket ; however, as 
it’s only for early-go-to-beders, I don’t believe I’ll 
produce it to-night.” 

Molly was on her feet in an instant. 

“ I always go to bed early, Mr. Glendenning, only 
when Sara wants me to sit up, like last night : you 
don’t blame me for that, do you ? ” 

“ Indeed I don’t ; and seeing you’re so anxious to 
go to-night, I think I will give it to you, after all,” 
slowly drawing a package from the pocket of his 
great-coat, which was thrown over a neighboring 
chair. 


26 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Molly grasped it, managing to get out a hurried 
“ Thank you,” under Sara’s eyes ; pulled at the 
string, whirled around a few times in search for a 
knife, though Morton was holding his out all the 
time, and finally, getting to the box, snatched at its 
cover — and dropped the whole thing, the bonbons 
inside rolling all over the floor. 

“ Oh, oh, oh ! Sara,” she screamed, dancing up 
and down, “they’re running away ! What are 
they.?” 

The young man laughed heartily. 

“Only French creams and candied fruits, child; 
you may not like them as well as Miss Zeba’s striped 
lemon and horehound sticks, but I thought I’d give 
you a taste of Vanity Fair, at least.” 

“ Is that its name .? ” asked Molly, who had 
secured a chocolate-cream, and was now burying her 
little white teeth in its soft lusciousness. “ Oh, 
how sweet ! and it melts while you’re tasting. Is 
Vanity Fair all that way .? ” 

“ Pretty much,” he said gravely, with an odd look 
at Sara. 

“Well, it’s nice,” she concluded, after a second 
taste, “ but there isn’t much to it ; you can’t chomp 
it like horehound, or wintergreen candy. I like to 
chomp ! ” 

“ I presume so, and suck lobster-claws too, don’t 
you .? The fact is, I fear your tastes are too com- 
monplace for you to thoroughly relish these French 
sweeties, and I’m glad of it ! Now, don’t eat too 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 12/ 

much to-night, for a very little of Vanity Fair goes 
a great way, you’ll find. And now, good-night.” 

Good-night, sir. I suppose some is for Morton ? ” 

“ I left that to your magnanimity.” 

“My who.^” bewilderedly. “Do you mean Sara.^ 
Well, then, I may as well give him half this minute, 
’cause she’ll certainly make me,” and the two finally 
disappeared, Molly laboriously counting over the 
recovered bonbons, to be* sure the division was exact. 

He turned back to Sara. 

“ It is too much care for you,” he said warmly. 
“ Think of that boy, who will soon be beginning to 
assert himself, and Molly, who is enough to keep a 
whole family on the alert, to say nothing of the 
baby. How are you going to manage.^ ” 

His reference to Morton reminded her of their 
difference, which for a time she had forgotten, and 
she told him about it, adding, — 

“ What can I do ? ” 

“Stand firm,” he said at once. “But wait; I 
see how hard that will be, with the whole town 
against you. Let me think.” 

She waited, watching him, while he gazed into the 
fire. 

Finally he turned again to her. 

“ You spoke of leaving here, why not do so now, 
soon ? Put it to Morton that you need his protec- 
tion and help, and go to Boston. You have some 
means } ” 

“ Yes.” 


128 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


If Sara had mentioned the sum of these, the 
young man would have been aghast ; but, accustomed 
as she was to the most frugal living, it seemed large 
to her. 

Then what is to hinder.?” eagerly. Uncle 
Leon will stay there this winter, anyhow; and they 
can find you a small flat, where you could keep house 
in a cosey way. Then there are things you can do at 
home, I am sure ; things for the Woman’s Exchange, 
say, that’ll help you out.” 

Sara’s eyes brightened. It was her dream to go 
out into that wider life she had read of, and this 
seemed her opportunity. 

“ What would I have to pay for such rooms .? ” she 
asked. 

“ Oh, that would depend on locality, the conven- 
iences, and so on ; probably from eighteen to thirty 
dollars, although I am more familiar with Western 
than Eastern rentals, but I presume that’s somewhere 
near it.” 

Sara, supposing him to mean this as the yearly 
rental, thought it moderate enough, and went on, — 
If it were not for baby, I could teach perhaps, 
or go out to sew ; but I’ll have to wait till he’s older 
for that.” 

“ Would you take the baby ? ” he asked surpris- 
edly. 

“ How could I leave him .?”^ she returned. 

‘‘I thought perhaps — didn’t your stepmother have 
any relatives ? ” 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 


129 


“ A few ; but they are not people with whom he 
would be happy,” she said simply. 

He looked at her with a puzzled face, made a move 
to speak, then stopped, ashamed to utter what was in 
his mind ; ashamed to tell her that such devotion to 
a half-brother would hardly be expected of her, and 
that, freed from him, she might make a far easier 
start in life. Instead, he merely nodded his head 
understandingly, and kept silence, feeling that here 
was a nature not to be approached, except with care 
and reverence, first putting off the dust-soiled shoes 
of custom and worldly prudence, as unfit to enter 
there. After a little more talk he rose reluc- 
tantly. 

“ Our good Mrs. Updyke will be scandalized to 
see a light here after half-past nine,” he remarked 
lightly. “ Have you any word to send to Aunt 
Felicie .? ” 

Always my love and reverence,” said Sara, with 
a touch of the old-fashioned manner that Robert 
thought one. of her greatest charms. “And, if you 
think I may trouble her, I will write what there is 
to tell, though even Miss Prue does not know all the 
dreams I have had for the future.” 

“ Why should she ? ” asked the young man jeal- 
ously. “ My aunt may not be so old a friend, but I 
am sure she is as good a one.” 

“ She’s more than kind ! I can’t understand,” 
with a little burst of confidence, “ why you are all 
so good to a poor fisherman’s daughter like me } ” 


130 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


They had risen, and he had shaken himself into 
his fur-trimmed great-coat ; now he turned, hat in 
hand, and looked down upon her, for, though Sara 
was tall for a girl of eighteen, he towered well above 
her. 

“ You ask why ? ” he began in a quick, eager tone, 
then something in her calm face seemed to alter his 
mind, or at least speech, for he added more care- 
lessly, “ Do you think it so queer ? But you forget 
you are a princess ! ” laughing lightly. “ Well, 
good-night ; it is time for me to go,” and, with a 
more hasty farewell than he had intended, he turned, 
and left her standing in the doorway. 

The next morning he was sitting before a cheerful 
grate fire in his aunt’s private parlor at a certain 
hotel in Boston, his long legs stretched towards the 
blaze, and his chin dropped meditatively on his 
breast, while she, at the other end of the leopard- 
skin, worked busily on some fleecy white wool-work, 
occasionally glancing towards his darkly-thoughtful 
face. 

“ Ah, well, Robare,” she said at last, this is then 
your last evening here ? ” 

He shook himself a little, sat upright, took his 
hands from his pockets, and, forcing a smile, turned 
to her. 

Yes, Aunt Felicie; and a nice way to spend it, 
glowering at the fire ! Where’s uncle ? ” 

He has to that meeting gone at the Natural 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 


13 


History building; I cannot its name remember. 
Why } had you a private Word to say } ” 

“ Well, I haven’t told you about my trip yet, to 
Killamet.” 

“ Ah ! It was then to Killamet that you have 
been } I have thought so, though you did say it was 
a business trip.” 

“ And so it was, partly ; old Adam has sold my 
yacht, and I went to get the money.” 

“ Are there, then, no banks with drafts, or notes 
of post in Killamet ? ” rallyingly. 

** Don’t tease, auntie, but listen. I called on the 
little princess.” 

** Of course.” 

“And, Aunt Felicie, her father is lost at sea, and 
she is caring for all those little' ones, alone.” 

“ Ah, the poor child ! Is she then born to trouble, 
as the sparks do fly upward ? Are they very, very 
poor, Robert ? ” 

“ No ; she said they had means, though it is prob- 
ably but little, a thousand or two at most ; they 
seemed comfortable, though you know how plainly 
they live ; and, aunt, she is more beautiful than 
ever ! ” 

“ Yes, hers is of that kind of beauty that does 
grow, as her soul grows, for it is from the within. 
Did she to me send any special word ? ” 

“ Yes, her ' love and reverence ; ’ can’t you im- 
agine just how she said it, with that little Priscilla 
touch which is so quaintly charming ? ” 


132 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Then he told of Morton’s revolt, and the advice 
he had given Sara, at her request ; also the promise 
he had extorted. 

'' And now, aunt, she must have help ; not only 
advice, but other things perhaps.” 

“ Never from you, Robare ! ” sharply. “ Of what 
are you thinking ? ” 

You have always let me help in your charities, 
auntie,” he said in a wheedling tone ; then, tossing 
back his head suddenly, “ But this is different, of 
course; only just think. Aunt Felicie, how the poor 
child’s hands are tied ! ” 

“ But the poor child’s spirit is not, my Robare, and 
it is that of a free-born fisher-lass, who would not be 
dependent, even in its thought ; leave Sara to me, 
my dear boy ; I think it is that you may trust my 
discretions, is it not ? ” 

He leaned forward, caught the pretty white hand 
from its flying task, crushed it against his lips, then, 
flushing hotly, rose from his chair, and walked down 
the room, ashamed of the agitation he could not 
suppress. 

There was silence for a moment, while the perky 
little Bougival clock on the mantel ticked merrily, 
and madame’s needles kept the time ; then Robert 
broke it abruptly. 

Aunt, I’m almost twenty-four.” 

Yes.” 

“ And worth a clear ten thousand.” 

“Yes.” 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 


133 


And make at least three thousand a year.” 

“Yes.” 

“ And uncle and yourself are my nearest relatives.” 

“ I am aware.” 

“ Well, haven’t I a right to please myself ? ” 

“You haven’t a right to tie yourself by your 
hands, and your feet, for a whimsey which may pass 
away. Go back to your busy Chicago, my Robare, 
and work hard, and live the right, pure life for one 
year, then tell me what is. your thought.” 

“ Must I, auntie ? ” 

It was with the old boyish voice and manner he 
said this, and his aunt broke into* a laugh, though 
her eyes were wet. 

“ You naughty child ! Will you now obey your 
good tante, or not ” 

“Yes, ma’am, I will ; but you will keep me posted 

“ Possibly, my boy,” bending carelessly over her 
work. 

“Aunt Felicie,” he strode up to her with sudden 
passion. 

“ Do not answer me so ! I am a man, and I love 
this fisher-lass with all my heart ! ” 

He had stopped directly before her, and she saw 
that his face was white with feeling. Down went 
the worsted-work, and, rising, she flung both arms 
about his neck. 

“ My Robare, my nephew, my son ! ” she cried in 
a choked voice, “ I want the best that earth and 
heaven can give to you; and you — you do push 


134 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


over my ambitions, and expect that I will at once be 
glad and gay.” 

“ But, auntie, you admire her too.” 

“I do, Robare; she is good and fair to see; but 
you must of the others take thought too, and she 
does need many teachings, dear.” 

“You’ll teach her, auntie .^” 

“ Oh, be quiet, then ! ” pushing him pettishly 
away. “ Of what use to argue with a man so enam- 
oured } Go thy Western way ; obey me, and I will 
tell you every week all that there is to tell. Are 
you content ? ” 

“I’ll have to be,” laughing a little at her expres- 
sion ; “ but remember,’.’ turning in the doorway, “ if I 
don’t hear, I shall immediately find that business 
compels an Eastern trip.” And, shaking a warning 
finger at her, he disappeared to his packing in an 
opposite apartment. 

Madame Grandet, meanwhile, resumed her work, 
and held it till the door had closed behind the young 
man. Then she dropped it, her smiles vanished, 
and she grew grave and thoughtful ; for, though far 
less worldly than many, she was too much of a 
Frenchwoman to look upon a misalliance without a 
shiver of dread and apprehension. Her relationship 
to Robert was only by marriage, but an own child 
could not have been dearer, for he was bound to her 
by all the traditions and ties of a lifetime. His 
mother, pretty Nadine Grandet, had been her ear- 
liest friend, and they had lived side by side, in a 


ROBERT GLENDENNING. 


135 


little village on the Ouise, until she was wooed and 
won by the American artist, Robert Glendenning, 
who had been attracted to that neighborhood by his 
studies, and the fame of Sevign6, whom he wor- 
shipped afar. He finally brought his pretty French 
bride to America, and they lived happily in an East- 
ern city till the little Robert was twelve years old. 
Then a sudden illness took the wife and mother to 
heaven, leaving the husband and son to keep house 
in a Bohemianish way, until Nadine’s studious bro- 
ther, Leon, who had meanwhile married the life- 
long friend of his sister, Felicie Bougane, decided to 
come to America. 

The Grandets had no children, and as soon as the 
madame’s eyes fell upon the little Robert, who was 
wonderfully like his dead mother, her heart went out 
to him ; and from that time' on he had been like a 
son to her, especially after his father’s death, a few 
years later. 

As the artist was unusually prudent, and no gen- 
ius, by which I mean he painted pictures which the 
public could understand, and therefore did buy, he 
left a snug little sum to his son. This the young man 
decided to invest in Chicago, and chose architec- 
ture for a profession, two wise moves, as subsequent 
events proved. As for his uncle and aunt, they had 
no settled home, but followed wherever science beck- 
oned, and a wild dance she sometimes led the two, 
as the poor little madame often thought. 

But this winter certain proof-sheets anchored them 


136 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


in Boston ; hence Robert’s intense desire that Sara 
should make haste to settle under his aunt’s pro- 
tection, before some new flitting should put too 
great a distance between them. This devoted aunt 
was ready to make any sacrifice for her dear boy, 
but not so ready to see him make one ; often a much 
harder thing for a loving heart. 

The madam e, being of Huguenot ancestry, and as 
sturdy a Protestant as ever lived, could have suf- 
fered martyrdom, like her grandfather of blessed 
memory, for the faith that was in her ; but to see 
her boy suffer perhaps a ruined life because of one 
mistake in early manhood, terrified her, and she was 
now often sorry she had let her artistic admiration 
for that unusually fine head in the cottage doorway 
lead her to such lengths the summer before. 

Sara as a pet and prot^g^e was one thing ; Sara as 
her nephew’s wife quite, quite another ! 

But in her varied life she had learned the two wis- 
est lessons God ever sets his children, — those of 
waiting and trusting. So, after a half-hour’s silent 
meditation now, she resumed her work with a more 
cheerful look and manner. 

“ What is done is done,” she said in her own 
tongue. “ The only thing left is to make the 
best of it ; ” and when Robert returned, after com- 
pleting the preparations for his journey, he would 
never have dreamed that she had a care upon her 
mind, or the least foreboding in her heart, to see her 
bright face, and hear her sunny laughter. 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


137 


CHAPTER XL 
Betty’s quilting-bee. 

As for Sara, the interview with Robert Glenden- 
ning roused her to a new interest in her changed life, 
and to new hopes and plans, which are always de- 
lightful to youth ; and these kept her from sinking 
back into that settled sadness which had been almost 
unnatural in one of her years. First, she wrote the 
promised letter to Madame Grandet, which was no 
light task for one so little accustomed to the use of 
the pen. 

It began stiffly enough, but after the first few sen- 
tences the interest of her subject so occupied her, 
that she forgot to choose her words, and, when after- 
wards she read it over, she felt almost frightened at 
its ease and abandon. 

I’m afraid she will think it too — too — not respect- 
ful enough,” she said, eying the closely written sheets 
dubiously ; but if I write it over I shall have to 
send Morton to Zeba’s for more paper,” and, pressed 
as usual by economy, she let it go without change, 
thereby greatly astonishing and delighting the 
madame. 


138 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ For,” thought she, “a girl who can write like that 
is of no common clay, and is bound to find her 
level. If it is to be as the wife of my Robare 
that she reaches it, have I any right to keep her 
back .? ” 

After Sara had written the letter, her loyal heart 
reproached her so that she could not rest until she 
had also invited a talk with Miss Prue ; so one fine day 
when there was just a hint of spring softness in the 
air, as delicate as the flavor in a perfect dish, she 
wrapped baby in his cloak, and drew him on Morton’s 
sled to the cosey bay-windowed cottage. Miss Plun- 
kett seemed delighted to see them, so was the parrot, 
who insisted on so much notice at first, that conver- 
sation progressed only by hitches; but, becoming 
sleepy after a time (for Miss Polly was an ancient 
maiden, and extremely fond of her “ forty winks ” ), 
she relapsed into a grunting quiet, and, as baby was 
also still and happy over some blocks always kept 
ready for his use, the two soon became deeply 
engaged. 

When, however, Sara had gotten as far as the re- 
moval to Boston, the elder woman threw up her hands 
in dismay. 

“ Goodness ! child, of what are you thinking ? Are 
you left so well off that you can afford even to think 
of this thing ? Why, my dear, even I, with my means, 
which most Killamet people think large, would feel' 
as if abandoned to the wolves, there ! I couldn’t 
begin to live on my income.” 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


139 


Sara’s eyes opened wide. 

“ But, dear Miss Prue, I haven’t so much altogether 
as you have in a year.” 

“ Then, are you crazy, child ? You’ll feel as if cast on 
a desert island in that crowd of strangers, with no one 
to care whether you live or die ; and you couldn’t 
live six months on so little.” 

‘‘But Mr. Glendenning said I could get two or 
three rooms for somewhere from eighteen to thirty 
dollars, and I hoped, with the rent of the cottage 
here” — 

“ A month, Sara, a month ; surely you didn’t expect 
to pay so little for a year ! ” 

“ Why, yes, I did ; I’m afraid I’m dreadfully ignorant. 
Miss Prue.” 

“ As bad as a chicken just out of the shell,” shaking 
her head with comical lugubriousness. “ Go to Boston, 
indeed ! you’d starve to death on a doorstep, all four 
of you, I can see you now, laid out like a row of as- 
sorted pins, for all the world. Humph ! Boston, 
indeed!” with bridling earnestness. “Besides, what 
business has that Glendwing, or whatever his high- 
falutin name may be, to mix himself up with our 
affairs ? I declare, Sara, I’ve a great mind to move 
the whole lot of you down here, and take care of you 
myself. I would, too, if it wasn’t for Polly ; but she’d 
quarrel with the children all day long, and make life 
a burden.” 

Sara laughed, but looked disappointed too. 

“ I see it’s not to be thought of now. Miss Prue ; 


T40 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


but I hoped I could work there, and indeed I don’t 
know what there is to do here.” 

Well, there’s that, of course, and I’ll have to own 
that Cousin Nancy Prime, who lives in Hartford, al- 
ways says, when I talk so, that there’s no place where 
the poor are so well looked after as in a large city ; 
but it seems to me just like a howling wilderness, and, 
besides, who wants to be looked after ? I don’t, nor 
you either ; we want to have our own means, and be 
independent of charity.” 

Yes; but it won’t take so very long to finish my 
little capital, then what will I do if there is no work 
to be got.^ and you know there isn’t any here.” 

“Advertise for summer boarders,” said Miss Prue 
brilliantly. “ I don’t know why people shouldn’t come 
to Killamet, as well as to fifty other places along this 
coast. It’s only because when they get here there’s 
no place to put them in, or, possibly, they haven’t 
discovered our great merits yet. Our beach, and the 
scenery about it, are finer than those of half the 
places they throng, and what if they do have to come 
either by stage or boat the last few miles ! It gives 
all who don’t consider time, and are only off for an 
outing, so much the more variety. If you advertise 
as I’ve seen people do before now, you could make 
it seem a perfect paradise, and not be half so far out 
of the way, either.” 

“ I never thought of that. / take boarders ? How 
queer ! ” 

“ Well, everything’s queer, that is about you ; my 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


141 

life has been humdrum enough, we all know ; but you 
seem marked out for exceptional fates — and fortunes 
perhaps.” 

A funny light glinted in the girl’s eyes. 

“I’m afraid the summer boarders would think they 
had been marked out for hard fortune, after eating 
my meals. What do I know about fancy cooking.^” 

“ Nothing ; and you don’t want to. Most of them 
have got their stomachs so upset by their high-spiced 
Frenchy dishes that they’ve got to have a change of 
diet. You can cook fish to perfection, for I’ve tried 
you, and make good bread, and you are naturally neat 
and dainty, which goes for much. Take my cook- 
book home, and study up a few simple, nice recipes 
this winter, so’s to be ready. Don’t try for too much, 
but do excellently well all you undertake ; and try it. 
You know I’ll help you all I can ; I believe you’ll 
succeed ! ” 

“ But what rooms have I ? ” 

“ I knew you’d say that, and I am prepared with an 
answer. There is, to begin with, the spare room off 
your living-room.” 

“Oh, that.?” broke in Sara, as if Miss Prue had 
touched on something sacred. 

“Yes, just that : we all have too much veneration 
for our spare rooms. Now, answer me truly, of what 
earthly use is it to you.?” 

“Why, none ; but mother’s best things” — 

“ Will lie there, given over to spiders, dampness, 
and moths, till they fall to pieces. Use them ; that’s 


142 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


what they were made for, and, so far, they haven’t 
fulfilled their purpose in life much better than some of 
the rest of us,” smiling at her own conceit. “ Get th^m 
out, air them, and use them ; then, if needs be, and 
you could get boarders enough to warrant it, you 
could have the roof raised, and make that loft into 
two nice rooms ; but that is far ahead yet. Take 
two people first, for your spare room, then get Mrs. 
Updyke and Mrs. Filcher to lodge a few more, and 
you board them. Isn’t that a scheme ? ” with a 
triumphant laugh. 

“ If I can do it ; but I’m afraid, almost.” 

‘‘So am I!” with a funny look. These sudden 
changes of base were a characteristic of Miss Prue’s ; 
perhaps she believed, with Emerson, that “unchan- 
ging consistency is the mark of a stagnant soul.” 
“ But what else is there for you here, safe at home ? ” 

“Nothing,” discouragedly. “If there was only a 
canning factory, I could work in that.” 

“ Well, there isn’t, so there’s no use wishing. 
After all, I believe my plan is practicable. Of course 
you are young in years, but you’ve had any amount 
of experience ; then you would only take women and 
children, and they’d be easy with you.” (0 confid- 
ing Miss Prue!) “I believe I’d try it, really.” 

If “in a multitude of counsellors there is safety,” 
there is often also confusion, as poor Job had occa- 
sion to experience ; and Sara felt that the more she 
talked about her future, the less she knew what dis- 
position to make of it. Finally she abandoned the 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


143 


subject with something like despair, and asked a 
question in regard to the neighborhood, which made 
Miss Prue say quickly, Oh ! that reminds me, Sara, 
I want you to be sure to go to Betty’s quilting-bee ; 
you will, won’t you ? ” 

O Miss Prue! must I.^ You know I never 
liked those bees, and now” — 

“Yes, I understand all that, still I want you to go. 
I have reasons. You are a King’s daughter; make it 
one of your acts of self-denial.” 

Sara laughed. 

“That seems odd enough, mayn’t I ask your rea- 
sons ” 

“ No ; well, yes, I believe I will tell you after all. I 
heard two of the girls talking about you the other 
day, never mind who, and I didn’t like what they said. 
The fact is, Sara, they think you feel above them.” 

“ Oh I how can they ? ” 

“Well, they do, and perhaps they’re half right; 
there, you needn’t color so ! / won’t say you’re not 

above them, but you mustn’t feel so. Did you ever 
think, Sara, that you might get up a circle of ten 
here .? ” 

“Why, no.” 

“ Well, why not ? It wouldn’t hurt the girls, nor 
you either,” dryly. “ Anyhow, I want you to go to 
this quilting, wear that pretty new dress, and be just 
as nice and cordial as you know how.” 

Sara sighed, but acquiesced. She had always 
obeyed Miss Prue, but this was a trial. She won- 


144 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


dered, all the way home, just why it should seem so. 
Did she really feel above the other girls, that they 
failed to interest her ? Was it pride that made her 
long for quiet, and her books, rather than for the 
society about her ? Could it be she only cared for 
Miss Prue because she was richer and better born 
than the others ? 

“ No ! ” she said emphatically to that last, ‘‘ I should 
love her in rags, Pm sure ; but I do like her better 
because she is neat and trim, and can talk intelligently 
about anything. I wonder if it’s wrong to feel so ? 
I must remember that being a King’s daughter makes 
it more necessary that I should be thoughtful for all. 
How prettily madame explained those two words, 
‘ Noblesse oblige ’ to me. ‘ The nobility of my 
birth constrains me.’ So, if I call myself one of the 
royal family, how courteous and kind I must be to 
every one, whether agreeable or not.” 

Thus, when the Wednesday came which was to see 
Betty’s quilt upon the frames, Sara left baby, with 
many instructions, to the children ; and, dressed in 
her best, wended her way to the low brown house in 
the edge of the pine grove, where Betty lived with 
her parents, and an overflowing household of younger 
children, and whence she was not sorry to go to the 
smaller, but less crowded cottage of young Nathan 
Truman, second mate of a schooner, of whom she 
was as proud and fond as if he had been captain of 
an East Indiaman, with both a town and country 
house. 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


145 

To-day the front room, which resembled Sara’s, 
only that its furniture was far more battered and 
worn, was cleared of everything but a row of chairs, 
which followed the length of its four walls in lines 
as even and true as those of an infantry regiment 
“dressed up” to the toe-mark for inspection; and 
through the centre, upon the rude and clumsy frame, 
was stretched a quilt of wonderful construction and 
a blinding confusion of colors. It was a “ Remem- 
brance Quilt,” Betty explained, as soon as the com- 
pany had arrived and filled the funereal rows of 
chairs, being pieced from bits given her by all of her 
friends and acquaintances. 

“ Here,” she said, indicating a point of brick-red 
calico which helped to form a many-rayed figure, 
whose round centre was in bright yellow, “ is the first 
new dress ma had after she got merried, and here,” 
indicating a lilac muslin with white spots, “is her 
weddin’ gown itself. Then there’s a bit of the dress 
’at was found on thet gal ’twas cast ashore ten year 
ago ; and there’s a piece o’ thet one ’t Zeba Osterhaus 
hed on when she hed her pictur’ took, an’ these,” 
blushing brightly, “ are scraps o’ my own dresses thet 
I ain’t wearin’ yet. Then there’s hunderds more, 
but I guess you’ll reco’nize most on ’em. I’ve pieced 
it 'star-pattern’, ye see, — an’ do ye know.^* — there’s 
one thousand an’ ninety pieces in thet thar very 
quilt ! ” 

There was a universal cry of admiration and aston- 
ishment at this triumphant announcement. 


46 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ How long did it take you ? ” asked Zeba, exam- 
ining the pattern and workmanship with renewed 
interest. 

Wall, I’ve been at it now this goin’ on two year ; 
kep’ it fur ketch-up work, ye know.” 

“Wall, we’d better set to,” sniffed Mrs. Updyke, 
fitting on a huge steel thimble open at the top ; “ they 
ain’t much arternOons to these short days, anyhow. 
I’ll take this star, an’ you, Sairay, may work on the 
next, so ’t I kin kinder watch ye. ’Twon’t do to hev 
any botch-work on this quilt.” 

Sara obeyed, but not with alacrity. It only needed 
the added discomfort of Mrs. Updyke’s supervision 
to make her quite wretched ; but Miss Prue, at the 
other end, happened to look up just in time to see 
the disconsolate air with which the girl drew her chair 
forward, and called out sharply, — 

“Why, what are you doing over there, Sara.^ I 
thought, of course, I could depend upon you to 
thread my needles for me ; ” and Sara, not daring to 
show her pleasure at this release, made a gentle word 
of excuse to Mrs. Updyke, and crossed the room to 
her friend. 

“ Oh, thank you ! ” she murmured, dropping beside 
the older maiden, who was chuckling slyly ; “ I couldn’t 
have sewed well at all there, she frightens me so.” 

“ Humph ! Well, she needn’t, for there isn’t a 
poorer needlewoman in Killamet. There’s the queer 
thing about that woman — she can’t really do one 
thing well, yet her satisfaction is complete.” 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


147 


All this in an undertone, entirely covered by the 
scraping of chairs, rustling of dresses, and wagging 
of tongues, as the company drew up to their posi- 
tions around the masterpiece ; and still thus pro- 
tected, Sara whispered on, — 

‘‘ But, dear Miss Prue, tell me, isn’t such a piece 
of work an awful waste of time } Calico is only 
a few cents a yard now, and it does not take such a 
great deal.” 

“But think, my child,” interrupted Miss Prue with 
a solemn look, “these remembrances!” And, as if 
by chance, her finger dropped upon an ugly chocolate- 
colored bit both remembered as having been worn by 
a poor crazed creature called “Silly Jane,” who be- 
longed in the county house, but spent a good deal of 
time wandering about the shore. 

Sara burst into one of her rare laughs, and Betty 
called out, — 

“ What’s the fun, Sairay ? Pass it ’round, can’t ye ? 
We’ve been a-wonderin’ what you ’n’ Miss Prue was 
a-gigglin’ over ! ” 

The idea of Miss Prue’s “giggling” rather shocked 
Sara ; but that lady answered at once, — 

“And weve been wondering if anybody else would 
ever take the time to do such a piece of work as this.” 

“ Oh I ” cried Betty, quite complimented, “ I guess 
there’s plenty would ; I enjoyed it I It’s such fun, 
when you’re j’inin’ the pieces together, to call up 
where you seen ’em last, an’ what the folks that wore 
’em was doin’.” 


48 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ Well, there’s something in that I’ll admit ; but 
do you need a piece of my dress to recall my per- 
sonality to your memory always, Betty If I’ve got 
to cut my clothes into bits ” — 

“ Oh, no’m,” laughing ; “but it’s different with you. 
We’d all remember you, of course, but there’s some, 
now ” — 

“ Silly Jane, for instance ? I see you’ve a piece of 
her usual gown.” 

Betty hardly knew how to take this, but Miss Prue 
looked so pleasant and kind, she laughed again. 

“ Wall, in course, there ain’t much to remember 
her for ; but she was about the only one in town ’t 
I hadn’t been to, so I thort I wouldn’t leave her 
aout, ye see.” 

“ Yes, I see,” stooping to bite her thread ; at which 
Mrs Updyke sniffed out, — 

“Wall, fer my part, I think it’s a purty nice thing 
when a gal spends her time in sich work ; she cain’t 
be doin’ anythin’ wuss ” (sniff), “thet’s sartain ! ” 

Miss Prue laughed. 

“Makes me think of Grannie Green. When her 
sot of a husband used to be sleeping off his sprees, 
she’d say, ‘ I’m allers so thankful when he gits real 
far gone, fur then I’m sure he cain’t be doin’ any- 
thin’ wuss.’ ” 

“ Dear me ! ” bridled Betty, “ I hope you don’t 
mean to compare me to thet wretched old Jed 
Green ! ” 

“No, my dear; but I used to wonder, then, if he 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 


149 


couldn’t have been doing something better, — but 
there! It wasn’t to discuss poor old Jed Green that 
I came here; but, first, to work on this wonderful 
quilt, and, second, to ask you girls why you don’t get 
Sara to form you into a society of King’s Daughters 
here.?” 

“ ‘ King’s daughters .? ’ We look like king’s daugh- 
ters, don’t we .? ” tittered Dolly Lee. 

“ Very much,” said Miss Prue, with that air of hers 
which made her so great a favorite, an air of boii- 
horniey almost impossible to describe. “ We’ve been 
told on good authority that we are made in the King’s 
image, so it must be true.” 

“ Oh ! — that f ” cried Betty. 

Certainly ; you didn’t think we free-born Yankees 
— descendants of the Puritan Fathers — were going 
to claim relationship with any of those effete Euro- 
pean aristocracies, did you .? ” with a droll look at 
Sara. 

— no.” 

Betty, not half understanding, but fully aware of 
Miss Prue’s drolleries, was determined not to be 
caught in any trap now, so kept to monosyllables ; 
and the latter, having created sufficient interest to 
insure a hearing, proceeded to make her explanations 
in regard to such a circle. 

In a small, isolated village anything which links 
one, even distantly, with the great throbbing world 
outside, is eagerly welcomed by the young. These 
all have their dreams, hopes, and fancies connected 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


150 

with this sphere on which we move, and they are 
usually far too wide to be contained within one 
square mile of territory ; unless, perchance, that 
mile teems so thickly with humanity as to offer every 
possible form of comedy and tragedy. For it is not 
trees and hills and skies, or even the sea, which can 
satisfy youth ; but living, breathing, suffering human 
nature. By and by they tire, perhaps, of the latter, 
and go back to nature, — in love, as they have never 
been with man, — but that is after disappointment 
has made the heart sore. 

To-day the thought of allying themselves with 
thousands of other girls and women in the effort to 
do good, set every pulse to new beating, that had 
ever throbbed with one spark of love for the Master ; 
and there succeeded one memorable quilting where 
Dame Gossip was almost entirely excluded. As they 
scattered for home, after Betty’s nice supper, Sara 
found herself, as usual, at Miss Prue’s side ; and, 
looking up into her friend’s face, said, with 'a mis- 
chievous smile, — 

“ So that’s why you wanted me to go to the quilt- 
ing, is it ? If you had told me ” — 

“ You wouldn’t have gone ! ” interrupted her friend 
promptly. “ I know you so well, Sara ! There’s a 
— a — well, an aloofness about you that I feel it my 
duty to struggle with,” giving the girl a merry 
glance; ^^some people might call it pride, — I don’t.” 

Sara looked troubled. 

‘‘I know you think so. Miss Prue, but I’m sure I 


Betty’s quilting-bee. 151 

don’t feel so. What, indeed, have I to be proud of.? ” 
sadly. “Only,” with more spirit, “I can’t tell all I 
know to every one, and it bores me dreadfully to 
have them tell me all they know ! ” 

Miss Plunkett laughed with enjoyment. She liked 
to rouse Sara occasionally ; and listened with dan- 
cing eyes as the latter continued, — 

“ Now, yesterday, Zeba and Dolly came to call (by 
the way, I was reading your Ruskin’s ‘Stones of 
Venice,’ so think what it was to be interrupted!), and 
what do you suppose they talked about every minute ? 
Why, it seems Mrs. Felcher has a brother living in 
Boston, who has invited her to visit him, and sent 
her a box of pretty things ; they named over every 
one, even to a ‘ frame-bunnit covered with sating, 
and with a bunch of blows on top I ’ ” 

Miss Prue had grown grave. 

“Yet poor Zeba could teach us both a grand les- 
son in cheerful patience,” she said gently. 

Sara crimsoned, but did not answer for a moment. 
They had reached Miss Prue’s gate now, and the 
latter turned into it. 

“ Wait I ” the girl then said, almost passionately. “ I 
am not worthy to be a King’s daughter ! Leave me 
out of your ten ; tell them I can’t live up to the sim- 
ple requirements ; I ” — 

“ Hush I Sara,” laying a hand on her young friend 
who was quivering with feeling, “ I understand it all ; 
you think the Lord has put you into a niche where 
you do not belong, for which you have no fitness. 


152 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Are you sure you know more than your Maker ? 
Perhaps He sees that, by clipping a bit here, or add- 
ing a trait there, you will be exactly the one for 
this niche. Why don’t you try and help this beauti- 
ful plan, instead of hindering it .^” Then, with a 
quick change of tone, “Well, good-night, daugh- 
ter; remember the first meeting of our circle next 
Thursday : I shall depend upon you I ” and she hur- 
ried in, not giving time for another word. 


NEW FORTUNES. 


153 


CHAPTER XII. 

NEW FORTUNES. 

Sara went home with slow steps, and a question- 
ing heart. 

“Am I cold and proud she thought. “Is it 
wrong to be indifferent to these petty things about 
me, and to love books better than people ? Do I 
look for defects rather than virtues, I wonder ^ Oh, 
dear ; how much harder it is to de right than to do 
right in this hard world ! ” 

She opened the cottage door, and saw a sight that 
drove away all other thoughts ; for there sat Uncle 
Jabez Wanamead in close conversation with Morton, 
while Molly, open-mouthed, was holding baby, and 
drinking in every word. It was a great shock to 
Sara; for having returned to the battle with her 
brother, fresh-armed with authority, after Glenden- 
ning’s departure, she had made such an impression 
upon him that she supposed he had entirely given 
up his dream of being a fisherman, and was now only 
thinking of a flitting to Boston. But, evidently, 
from his flushed, interested face at present all her 
labor was in vain. 


54 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Uncle Jabez rose awkwardly as she entered, with 
a “ Good-evenin’, Sairay, thort I’d call ’round a 
spell.” 

“ Good-evening,” she said, constraining herself to 
be pleasant. “ It is growing warmer out.” 

“ Yaas, looks like a break-up, some, makes a feller 
think o’ the Banks these days. Thort I’d see what 
Mort hed laid aout to do ’bout shippin’ ’long o’ 
me.” 

“ He is not going,” said Sara promptly. “ I have 
other plans for him,” with a beseeching look at the 
boy, who avoided her eye. 

“ Wall, in course, jest es ye say, but I do s’pose, 
ef Reub Olmstead was alive naow, his word would 
be go.” 

Sara winced. During all this struggle she had 
been cruelly hampered by her feeling that, possibly, 
she was acting entirely against what was likely 
to have been her dead father’s wishes, and now this 
fear rose so strongly again as almost to paralyze 
her. 

“ If he were only here — if I could put the respon- 
sibility into his hands — if I had any one,” she was 
saying to herself, when there came a thought that 
calmed her, as the mother’s voice calms a frightened 
child. “I have a Father; why don’t I put it in his 
hands .? ” 

Her rigid face relaxed into a lovely smile, and, 
looking at her brother with the winning sweetness 
she could assume at times, she said, — 


NEW FORTUNES. 


155 


“ I will say no more about this matter, Morton ; 
you have only our heavenly Father to answer to 
now. Decide as you think is right. Uncle Jabez, 
will you give him till to-morrow ? ” 

“Sartain, sartain; and, see here, my boy : Fm free 
to say Fve urged ye to go, fur I need a clipper-built 
little feller like you ; but I say naow, ef I hed as good 
a sister’s you’ve got, Fd think twicet afore I went 
agin her, an’ thet’s the truth.” 

There was no mistaking his earnestness ; and as 
he picked up his old tarpaulin, and shook hands with 
Sara in farewell, the respect and friendliness of his 
manner thrilled her with pleasure and surprise.* 
After he had gone she talked lightly about other 
matters, had a frolic with Molly and the baby, helped 
Morton with his examples, and mended a coat of his 
which had come to grief, all as if there were not a 
care upon her mind, and indeed there was none ; she 
had cast it on the Lord. 

Morton was very quiet all the evening, but just 
before he mounted the steep steps to his chamber in 
the loft he came to* her side. 

“ Sara,” he said. 

She looked up sweetly. 

“ Fve decided.” 

“ Yes, Morton ^ ” 

“ Fm going to stay at home.” 

“ My dear, good brother ! ” 

She drew him down and kissed him tenderly, while 
the tears stood in the eyes of both ; an^ from that 


156 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


moment there was a new bond between them, stronger 
than the past had ever known. 

One day some weeks later Morton came in with a 
large roll from the post-office, and threw it into Sara’s 
lap. 

“Ah!” she said eagerly, “it is Professor Grandet’s 
hand ; what can he have sent me ? ” and hurried to 
tear the wrapper open. 

Inside were several articles in pamphlet form, two 
being his own composition, and the rest by another 
well-known scientist, all relating to the strata and 
'minerals of this very portion of the coast. Being 
just then at leisure, she began one in which a certain 
sentence had caught her attention, and soon looked 
up with an air of excitement. 

“ See here, Morton I This is certainly a mistake ; 

and in B ’s paper, too,” reading aloud a certain 

statement in regard to the rock formations about a 
mile inland. “ He has, you see, made the same mis- 
take we did at first in regard to the dip of that vein, 
and which we afterwards discovered to be wrong, 
when we came across the outcropping near the old 
Judd farm. Don’t you remember ? ” 

“Yes,” said Morton, dropping his fish-lines to 
come nearer; “let’s hear what he says about it.” 

She read him a page or two, and they talked 
the matter over still further ; then she contin- 
ued her reading, only to break out again after a 
little. 


NEW FORTUNES. 


157 


“ Listen, Morton ! Professor Grandet is with us. 
He isn’t sure, but, from surface indications, he thinks 
just as we do, and the two men are having a great 
argument. They’re going to discuss the matter next 
week before the Geological Society. Do you know. 
I’m half tempted to write Professor Grandet what 
we have discovered } It might make it perfectly 
clear to him.” 

“ Well, I would,” said Morton, going back to his 
lines, more interested in them than in what, had he 
known it, was to have a great and lasting influence 
on his own and sisters’ lives. 

So next day Sara seated herself, with an old atlas 
for a desk, and wrote with care and precision what 
she had to tell ; then, directing the missive, she went 
to the old teapot in search of the two cents to pay 
its postage. 

As she lifted the lid and peered in, a sigh escaped 
her, for the little store of silver and copper was get- 
ting low; soon it would be necessary to take another 
bill from the roll of greenbacks so carefully hoarded ; 
and the thought alarmed her, for already it was greatly 
reduced in size ; then, remembering the lesson of 
dependence she was trying to teach herself, she took 
out two of the pennies, and resolutely replaced the 
lid, resolving not even to think of what it was, appar- 
ently, beyond her power to remedy. 

Yet she could not keep herself quite free from 
worry these days. Each change of season in our 
fickle climate means expense ; and now the spring 


58 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


was coming on, bringing its especial needs, her feel- 
ing was often one of sick despair. It is so hard for 
the young to learn simply to wait ; and poor Sara felt 
that, to make the outlay necessary for the reception 
of summer boarders, would actually impoverish them, 
and then — what if the boarders never came .J* The 
thought was appalling ! 

In this frame of mind she was putting on their 
frugal supper of dried herring, with baked potatoes 
and salt, a few weeks later, when Morton dashed 
in. 

“ My gracious, Sara ! I believe you get more 
mail than even Squire Scrantoun. Just look at 
these ! ” 

There was another roll, evidently pamphlets, and 
two letters, — one from Professor Grandet, the other 
in an unknown hand. She hurriedly opened the 
professor’s, and struggled through its tangled and 
much abbreviated chirography, looking up finally 
with a pale, puzzled, yet radiant face. “ I can’t 
quite make it out. I think — it seems to say that 
my letter has done him much good ; he says it 
was read before the society, and is printed some- 
where.” 

“ Perhaps it’s in that paper book,” suggested 
Molly, looking up from a shell box she was mak- 
ing. 

“This.^ why, yes: I didn’t think,” — tearing it 
open. “ This seems to be a Report of the Twelfth 
Annual Meeting ” — 


NEW FORTUNES. 


159 


“Oh, do look and see if it’s got your letter in ! ” 
broke in impatient Molly, springing up, and let- 
ting her shells drop in a pearly shower to the 
floor. 

Sara turned the leaves excitedly, then stopped ; 
and her sweet face flushed a vivid crimson. 

“ It is — it is here — -in print — just as I wrote it ; 
and it says, ‘ Letter from Miss Sara Olmstead, of 
Killamet, in which the vexed question is definitely 
settled.’ ” 

Many of us have experienced the tingling rapture 
of seeing our opinions in print for the first time ; 
but it could be to few what it was to Sara, isolated, 
and of humble station as she was. It seemed as if 
that thrill of pleasure came from the very centre of 
her being, and tingled even to her finger-tips, while 
Morton and Molly, more demonstrative, if not more 
glad, danced about her with regular whoops of 
delight ; after which the former mounted an uncer- 
tain chair for a rostrum, and read off the modest, 
concise, and clear little epistle with a flourish that 
ended in a crash, as the chair gave way, and landed 
him in the midst of Molly’s shells, with crushing 
effect. 

“ Oh, oh ! ” laughed Sara, “ do be careful ; ” while, 
with a scream of dismay, Molly fled to the rescue of 
her treasures. 

Amid the hubub the excited girl had almost 
forgotten the other letter ; but, as quiet was re- 
stored, she opened it, and read, with such astonish- 


i6o 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ment as no words can depict, this business-like 
note : — 

Miss Sara Olmstead: 

Dear Madam, — On recommendation of Professor Grandet, after 
reading your letter lately published in the Twelfth Report of the M. 
G. and M. Society, I am empowered by the Board of Control of Dart- 
moor College to tender you a position in the Geological Department, 
as assistant to Professor Macon, in charge. The duties are not 
heavy, — mostly classification and correspondence, — and will only 
require your attendance six hours per diem. The salary is ten dollars 
per week. Please reply, stating your decision, as soon as possible, and 
address, Yours truly, 

J. G. Adams. 

Sara looked up with something like awe. 

“ Morton,” she said in a tone that almost fright- 
ened him, it was so solemn, “the Lord is taking 
care of us ; we needn’t have any more fear now, for 
we are safe with him.” 

I think few people sat down to a happier, though 
not many to a more frugal meal than theirs that 
night. Sara had not then a misgiving in regard to her 
fitness for the position ; she was so filled with the im- 
pression of its being heaven-sent, t^t she felt, as did 
the apostles of old, that “ words would be given her, 
what she should say,” and wit also, what she should 
do. As to the salary, it seemed princely to these 
modest little folk ; and the only wonder was, how 
they should ever spend it. 

“ But how will you manage about baby } I don’t 
suppose they’d let him come to college,” giggled 
Molly, with her mouth full of potato, at which she 
naturally choked, and had to be patted on the back 


NEW FORTUNES. 


l6l 


by Morton, who perhaps performed the ceremony 
with more vigor than was necessary. 

There ! there ! Morton, gently dear. Now, 
Molly, don’t speak again till you’ve swallowed your 
food. Of course I will have to find some good, 
trusty person to look after baby while I’m gone, for 
I mean you both to go to school every minute that 
you can.” 

The child made awry face at this. 

“And I just know they’ll have it most a hundred 
weeks in a year ; they always do in big cities, Hattie 
Felcher says so.” 

“ No, they don’t,” said Morton promptly. 

“ Well, I guess she knows, Mort Olmstead ! Her 
uncle lives to Boston, and ” — 

“ Well, she don’t, if she says that ! ” calmly boning 
his sixth herring. 

“ She does too ! ” red with excitement ; “ she was 
there visiting when she was a baby, and she ” — 

“ Hush, Molly ! Morton, why will you be so tan- 
talizing ? Think a minute, dear, and tell me how 
many weeks there are in a year ; then you’ll see 
what Morton means.” 

Molly, after an instant’s calculation, saw the point, 
and shot a wrathful glance across the table. 

“Well,” she remarked, in a judicial summing up of 
the matter, “ you may think ygu’re smart, but that 
don’t help your face and hands from being so greasy 
they’re just disgusting ; and I don’t care, so ! ” 

“ Neither do I,” said Morton, calmly attacking his 


i 62 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


seventh herring, and his hot-headed little sister, as 
usual, was vanquished by his superior coolness and 
precision. 

This time even Miss Prue was satisfied, and entered 
heartily into all the plans and arrangements for the 
flitting, while Morton forgot his own disappointment 
in the interest of this great change. 

They were in the midst of the packing, Sara, Miss 
Prue, and Morton, with Molly guarding the baby, 
who had a savage desire to snatch at everything and 
destroy it, when the elder maiden laughed out, — 
“Sara, Tve a scheme; you can let the house as a 
summer cottage, instead of taking the boarders I once 
insisted upon. Now, come ! Isn’t that an idea ? ” 

“ If I can’t sell it,” said Sara. 

“Of course, but then you can’t. Nobody ever 
sells anything in Killamet except tobacco. I doubt 
if you could give it away ! ” 

Sara smiled and sighed in a breath. 

“ I’d hate to do either, but I fear it will never be 
our home again, so why cling to it ? But really, do 
you suppose any city family would be satisfied with 
this ? ” indicating the large, littered room with a 
sweeping gesture. 

“Why not, just for the summer.? They crowd 
into far more uncomfortable places, I’m sure. I can 
imagine this room with pretty rugs and cane chairs, 
and a hammock slung across the alcove, and a pine- 
bough ablaze in the fireplace, being a most attractive 
nook some cool summer evening, after a long day of 


NEW FORTUNES. 1 63 

blue-fishing ; and there’s one nice bedroom besides 
the loft.” 

Sara shook her head dubiously. 

“ I wish some one would take it, but I’m afraid it 
will have to stay closed and useless. Molly, Molly ! 
Do watch the baby ; he’s just starting for the best 
glass sugar-bowl with the hammer, and I think he 
has some tacks in his mouth.” 

Baby having been made to disgorge his too sharp 
repast, the talk ran on to other things. Miss Prue 
giving much valuable advice on “ How to live on ten 
dollars a week ; ” but the sage maxims were so inter- 
spersed with hammerings, hunts, and hurry, that I 
fear much of their value was lost on Sara. 

It happened to be a fair day when they left for the 
new home, and it seemed as if all Killamet turned 
out to bid them God-speed. They ate their last din- 
ner with faithful Miss Prue, then, accompanied by a 
goodly little procession, walked down to the beach, 
where Jasper Norris, who had somehow happened 
home a few days before, was waiting with his tidy 
little wherry to row them across the bay to Norcross, 
where they would reach the railroad, their goods 
having been sent by wagon a day or two before. It 
was curious to see how differently each of the 01m- 
stead group was affected by this leave-taking. 

Sara was pale and still, and her beautiful, sad eyes 
heavy with unshed tears ; Morton had an air of man- 
liness new and good to see, and seemed determined 
to look after every one and everything ; Molly’s 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


164 

cheeks were red, and her eyes aglow with excitement, 
as her feet danced over the white sand, while baby 
laughed at the surrounding friends with charming 
impartiality, and talked every minute in his own par- 
ticular dialect, which eye and motion made almost as 
intelligible as the queen’s English. 

At length they stood on the crescent beach, the 
sea rolling in at their feet, as Sara had watched it so 
many times. A fresh April wind curled the waves 
into fluffy white turbans (as Molly observed), and an 
April sun gave them an almost blinding sparkle. 
Each lighthouse gleamed whitely across the bay, and 
the tall cliff-rocks stood out in bold relief against the 
dazzling blue of the sky ; but Jasper saw it all as 
through a mist, for his heart was heavy. 

What did this departure portend ? Would it break 
up their life-long friendship.? He was glad to see 
his mother take Sara’s hand, and, as she kissed her 
tenderly, exact a promise that she would write occa- 
sionally. 

But when the others crowded around, each eager 
for the last word, he turned away and busied himself 
with his tiller-rope, sick at heart. At last the good- 
bys were all said ; Morton had taken his seat at the 
rudder, and Molly was nestled with baby on a cushion 
in the bottom of the taut little boat, when, just as 
Jasper was holding out a hand to help Sara aboard, 
she turned and gave a last, long, lingering look over 
the quaint little town in its radiant setting of sea 
and sky. 


NEW FORTUNES. 


165 

‘‘Good-by, all — all I love!” she said brokenly, 
then turned to Jasper, and was soon silently seated 
in her designated place. 

The young man, also silent, took up the oars to fit 
them into the rowlocks, when suddenly Molly was 
seen scrambling to her feet. 

“ Wait, Jap, wait ! ” she cried eagerly, and leaping 
over the seats, sprang lightly ashore. 

“ Why, what is it ? ” “ Have you lost something } ” 
“ What can the child want } ” were some of the 
questions showered after her from boat and beach, as 
she was seen to stoop and plunge a quickly bared 
arm into the water. 

She drew it forth again, and held up something 
green and many-clawed. 

“ It’s just a lobster I saw,” she said calmly, as she 
climbed back to her place with the surprised crusta- 
cean gingerly suspended from her dripping hand. 
“ We can boil it to-morrow, Sara, then I’ll have the 
claws to suck ; where shall we put it so’t it won’t grip 
the baby ? ” 

The laughter called forth by this characteristic 
escapade effectually dispelled all tears and sadness. 

Even Jasper grinned, as he handed the creature 
on to Morton, to be thrown into the bait-box under 
the stern-seat, and, amid lighter sallies and laughter, 
instead of tears, they rowed away. But Sara’s eyes 
rested upon her well-loved birthplace until they had 
rounded the lighthouse, and the familiar scene was 
quite shut out by the intervening tongue of land. 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


1 66 

It was about mid-afternoon when the little party 
entered the railway coach at Norcross; and this 
being Molly’s first glimpse of a train of cars, her 
eyes would have put an owl’s to shame for size and 
roundness, as she sat on the very edge of the seat, 
and stared uneasily about her. 

Jasper, having fixed them comfortably, gave a hur- 
ried hand to each, leaving the last for Sara. He had 
thought a dozen times just what he would say to her 
at parting, but everything went out of his head in 
the nervousness of that last anxious moment, with 
the engine apparently determined to run away with i 
all who would linger over their farewells, and he 
simply uttered a choked “ Well, good-by, Sairay ! ” 
as he held her hand an instant in a trembling clasp. 

“ Good-by, Jasper, I shall not soon forget your 
kindness ; but do hurry off before the train starts.” 
So does the rush and rattle of modern times over- 
power romance and sentiment. 

But, safe on the station platform, he watched the 
one window he cared for with misty eyes, while Sara 
on its other side felt that the last of home was leav- 
ing her, while before her stretched only a strange, 
untried, uncertain future. 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 


167 


CHAPTER XIII. 

FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 

The train started with a shriek, faintly echoed by 
excited Molly, the bells clanged, belated men swung 
themselves up to the rear platform, there was the 
quick panting of impatient haste through the mon- 
ster’s whole length, till the jerks settled into a 
contented glide, and Molly’s distressed puckers broad- 
ened into a smile of delight. 

“ It’s like flying ! ” she gasped, turning from her 
intent gaze out of the window. “Everything’s fly- 
ing, only the trees and fences all go the other way. 
I tell you I like it ! ” 

Dartmoor was about a three hours’ ride distant, 
so it was not yet dark when they reached there, 
and were met by Madame Grandet, who had been in 
the college town with her husband for a fortnight. 
How good it was to see her charming face again ! 
Sara felt the stricture of forlornness and fear about 
her heart loosen suddenly at sight of her. 

“ Here are you all then, quite safe and well ! ” she 
said merrily, as she took the baby from his sister’s 
tired arms, “ and I have a carriage for you ; pray 
follow.” 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


1 68 

They obeyed; and soon the party were driving 
through the broad, quiet streets, bordered by old 
elms and maples whose summer foliage must stretch 
a green canopy quite across them, thought Sara. 
She gazed about her, and was delighted with the 
comfortable, old-time look of the deep-verandaed 
houses, set solidly in the midst of green lawns, out- 
lined by winding shell walks of dazzling whiteness. 

Once she uttered a cry of pleasure, as they crossed 
a large green park interspersed by broad avenues, 
with a pile of gray stone buildings surrounding three 
of its sides, while elms of rare height and grace were 
scattered irregularly over its velvety surface. 

“ It is the campus that you now see,” said the 
madame, answering the question in her eyes, and 
those large buildings are of the college a part. Do 
you observe over this way, to our right, a wide, wide 
arch with a statue above ? It is the entrance to the 
museum, in which you do work, and this beautiful 
street we drive upon, it is the College Avenue, and 
here are the homes of the faculty that we now pass.” 

‘‘Do we live with the faculty.?” inquired Molly, 
whose neck seemed in danger of dislocation, so con- 
stantly did she keep it twisting and turning. 

“ Ah ! no, hardly so,” laughed the madame ; “ it 
is on a little street that I do find apartments for you, 
but it is nice there ; I do hope you will be pleas- 
ured.” 

“ Oh, I’m sure we will ! Baby dear, don’t chew 
your pretty cloak-strings, you will spoil them. Ah ! 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 


169 


is this the place ? ” as they whirled around a corner 
and stopped shortly in a narrow but clean court, 
surrounded by small, trim cottages with tiny squares 
of green in front. 

The madame led them up a gravelled foot-path — 
there were no fences — to a door in one of these, 
which she opened and entered. 

“ Follow, follow ! ” she called out merrily, and 
flitted up the narrow, uncarpeted stairway. She 
stopped at the head of this, and stood till all had 
gathered about her in the dim little hall-way, then, 
with a graceful flourish, cried, “ Behold then ! ” and 
threw wide a door. 

There was a universal shout of satisfaction, which 
made the madame’s eyes dance, while Sara’s grew 
misty with feeling; for that kind little Frenchwoman 
had almost settled their rooms for them, doing all 
an outsider could do, so that the bare, homeless look 
many of us can remember when newly entering a 
tenantless house, was quite removed. 

After the first pause of surprise, the children 
began running wildly about, while the madame and 
Sara took it more leisurely. 

“ See,” said the former, “ it is here your sitting- 
room, with three pleasant windows, and a bit of a 
fireplace under this wooden mantel. When it is 
dressed with something bright it will not so bare 
seem. Here are two cosey bedrooms with the air 
and light, and a so large closet between, besides this 
cunning little bath-apartment, which I know you will 


70 


SARA, A PRIxNCESS. 


much prize. Then here,” throwing open a door, is 
your kitchen, with two fine windows, and this tiny 
range. Is it not pretty } ” 

She ran about, showing its conveniences, and ex- 
plaining how these apartment-cottages were built by 
a humane society, to furnish comfortable homes for 
those who had little means, ending : — 

“ And the rent, my dear, it is so small — so very 
small — only a little ten dollars a month ! ” 

It did not seem small to Sara, but she would not 
damp the madame’s enthusiasm by saying so ; and in 
time she learned to appreciate, and be grateful for, 
this really cosey flat at so low a rental. 

“The family below is very nice,” said mad*ame ; 
“ their name it is Hoffstott, and he is a little German 
baker of much baldness on his head, but greatly 
smiling and pleasant ; the wife is about the same in 
her width as she is in her height, and laughs with a 
big mouth, and white teeth fine to see ; and they 
have two little girls with yellow braids, like that 
candy of molasses Miss Zeba did have in her win- 
dows — and all so clean ! Ah ! ” with a charming: 
gesture, “ it do shine through every room with soap 
and sand, and the brush that scrubs ! ” 

“ Dear me ! ” sighed Sara, “ I’m afraid I can never 
suit them then ; baby will get things around so ! ” 

“ Never do you fear of yourself, little princess ! ” 
tapping her gently on the shoulder. “ I can still in 
my mind see your beautiful white floor and shining 
window-panes, down there by the sea. You, too, are 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. I7I 

clean, my sweet child, I know ! Now, have you any 
supper had ” 

“Why, no, not a bit ! ” laughing. “I had almost 
forgotten.” 

“ Well, I hadn’t,” said Morton, “ Fm about 
starved ! ” 

“ I, too ! ” cried Molly, and the baby put in a 
pathetic plea for “ bed-e-mik ” that was irresistible. 

“Ah, such fun!” cried the madame merrily, as 
she whisked off her wraps. “ I did think it would 
be so, and I had that good Hoffstott to send us a 
nice little tin kitchen that I now have hidden away 
in the warm oven ; and see I I did take some dishes 
out of the barrel. We will have a supper to make a 
chefvdcve with envy soon I ” 

If it would hardly produce so dire an effect on a 
head-cook, it certainly gave supreme satisfaction to 
the partakers ; for in the tin kitchen, which seemed 
to prying Molly like some Fortunatus box, was a dear 
little pot of baked beans, some steaming rolls, and 
potatoes baked in their jackets, while from a cooler 
place came a dainty glass of jam, and some cake. 

It was now dark, and the children felt surrounded 
by wonders. As Molly expressed it, “ Madame just 
turned a handle, and the light shot out ; and turned 
another, and the water fell out ; ” and she asked, 
innocently enough, if, when they wanted milk or tea, 
all that people had to do here was just to move 
a handle, and let it run out of the wall I But 
madame, after her laughter, answered this by pro- 


72 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ceeding to steep some tea in an odd little contrivance 
over the gas-jet, much as Sara did over the log-fire 
at home ; but neither Morton nor Molly would have 
been surprised to see food come sliding in, all cooked, 
or clothes all made, by the simple turn of a crank, 
so like fairyland was it all. 

When, at length, the kind madame left them, Sara 
looked about her with an odd feeling, half forlorn, 
half thankful. 

It was certainly a snug little haven, yet everything 
xwas so new and strange she felt as if she could never 
get used to it. But, during the next day or two, 
which was passed busily, getting the rooms into bet- 
ter shape, she gradually grew accustomed to the odd 
contrivances, and acknowledged their convenience. 
Mrs. Hoffstott came up, and kindly offered her ser- 
vices, and the baby took such a fancy to the good- 
natured German woman that he would hardly leave 
her for any one but Sara. 

As to the little girls, they fraternized with Morton 
and Molly at once, and introduced them to their home 
below, and their father’s shop on a neighboring street, 
before the day was over. 

By Sunday morning — their flitting had been on 
a certain Thursday — everything was in excellent 
order, and Sara had begun to feel that the little flat 
was indeed home ; so the blessed day was spent in 
the quiet and rest they all needed. As they sat 
around the tiny grate in the twilight, Morton looked 
slowly all about him. The room was square, with a 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 1 73 

large double window in front, and a single one at the 
side. By the madame’s suggestion, and with her 
help, these windows and the mantel-shelf had been 
prettily draped with inexpensive material, which was, 
however, delicate in tint and pattern. Upon the 
floor was the only carpet Sara owned — old-fashioned, 
and perhaps too bright for artistic tastes, but looking 
warm and comfortable that chilly spring evening. 
Then there was a table, also draped, while the collec- 
tion of minerals was conspicuous upon a set of shelves 
in one corner ; and about the fire were a few home- 
cushioned chairs. Plain, to homeliness, as it was, 
yet the effect was so entirely one of brightness and 
comfort that Morton broke out with, — 

Well, Sara, this is pretty nice ! Rather better 
than Uncle Jabez’s old cabin on the Mary Jane, isn’t 
it.?” 

I’m so glad you think so, Morton ! And I’m 
sure you will like school here. Mrs. Hoffstott has 
taken such a fancy to baby that she will take care of 
him for me until I can find some one else ; so to- 
morrow we begin our education, — you and Molly 
and I.” 

‘‘ You, Sara .? How funny ! Why, you are through 
with yours, aren’t you ? ” 

**No, Molly, I sometimes think I am just begin- 
ning; and if you dread the starting in to-morrow, so 
do I ! Bring the Bible, Morton, and let’s read a 
chapter, to give us courage for the ordeal.” 

It was indeed an ordeal ! After starting off the 


174 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


children, with the little Hoffstotts to pilot them, and 
seeing baby happy with some toys in their mother’s 
trim kitchen, Sara put on her modest wraps, and 
walked briskly, not giving her courage time to 
weaken, from the little court toward College Avenue. 
At its farther end she was to meet Professor Grandet, 
who lived there in a professional boarding-house of 
intense respectability and learning, from whence he 
was to accompany her to the museum, a programme 
which had been arranged with Sara by himself and 
madame, when they had called Saturday evening. 

She' found him awaiting her in the doorway, beside 
his wife, who greeted her with a cheery word, and 
bade her, laughingly, have no fear, for she knew all 
about professors, and really, in most things, they 
were no wiser than common people ! Then, laughing 
mischievously in her husband’s face, she gave him a 
little push down the steps, which came near upset- 
ting both his balance and his dignity. But before he 
could turn to remonstrate she was volubly bidding 
him not to go off into a brown study over some 
plesiosaurus, and forget all about his charge, or make 
a mistake and introduce her to the dinotherium, 
instead of Professor Macon ; then, gayly waving her 
hand, she vanished behind the closing door. 

“ She has ze spirits zat are high — she ! ” he said 
with a smile, for everything this bonny wife did 
seemed good to him. It is ze best sing zat it ees 
thus, for she ees much alone — la paiivre petite ! 
Now, I must zis sing say to you, Mees Sara ; it will 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 


75 


not be allowed zat you keep zat mos’ fine colleczione 
while ze college have you in employ — zat ees con- 
traire to ze rule. What would you with it then ? If 
you it will zell, I s’all be mos’ happy to buy, eh ? ” 

“ Certainly, if it is against the rule to keep it ; but 
that seems queer ! ” 

But no, it ees quite right, you zee ? Ze collec- 
ziones mus’ be for ze college — all — no private ones ; 
it will not do.” 

“Yes, I see; all must work for the general good 
when making a collection.” 

“ Yes, yes, it ees so.” 

They were now passing into the museum building, 
whose wide and lofty corridors sent a thrill of awe 
through the impressionable girl. Feeling very small 
and young, she followed the professor over the tiled 
floors, then through two or three large apartments 
filled with strange looking beasts and birds of a start- 
ling naturalness, past long glass cases, where she 
caught hasty glimpses of everything possible in shell, 
bone, stone, or mineral, then across a narrow corri- 
dor, where the professor stopped and tapped at a 
door. 

“ Enter ! ” was called loudly from within, and they 
obeyed. 

It was a bright, sunny room they stepped into, not 
large, in comparison with those they had passed 
through, though here, too, were smaller glass cases, 
as well as tables heaped with jars and specimens, and 
two knee-hole desks of fair size. 


176 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


From one of these a gentleman advanced; hot a 
large man, but having a fine head and face. His 
black hair was thrown carelessly back from a broad 
white forehead, while his mouth and chin were con- 
cealed under a full dark beard. His eyes, of the same 
dusky hue, peered keenly through glasses. 

“ Professor, here I have mine leetle vriend, Mees 
Sara Olmstead ; and zis, Mees Sara, ees ze good man 
with whom you do vork. Professor Macon.” 

The professor and his new assistant shook hands, 
while the latter felt she herself was being classified 
and labelled by those penetrating orbs. 

“ I’m happy to meet Miss Olmstead ; pray be 
seated. Don’t hurry away. Professor Grandet ; can’t 
you sit down a while, also ? ” 

‘‘ Not zis morning, t’anks ; I haf mooch to do. 
Well, Mees, I leaves you in good hands ; au revoir!' 

“ Good-morning ; and thank you,” said Sara timidly. 

“ Thou art mos’ velcome ; adieu ! ” and with a 
flourish of his hat he was gone. 

‘^You may take off your wraps in here, if you 
please. Miss Olmstead,” said Professor Macon, lead- 
ing the way to a small cloak-room ; then, as she 
returned unbonneted, he pointed to the desk near his 
own. 

“This is your place, and for this morning your 
work will be labelling these specimens. When you 
are the least uncertain about one, speak to me, 
please. You will find everything needed before 
you.” 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 


77 


He returned to his own work, and Sara soon grew 
absorbed in hers ; for it was the kind of task she 
liked, and had often spent hours over, for pure 
amusement. How it brought back the shore and 
the cliffs ! The long rambles inland, also, and the 
evenings on the floor amid her specimens, down 
before the drift-wood fire. She forgot her surround- 
ings finally, so interested was she ; and once the pro- 
fessor, glancing up, smiled a little at sight of the 
bent head and eager, intent face. He watched her, 
unperceived, for some seconds, then, with a nod of 
satisfaction, returned to his own labors. 

The three morning hours passed as one in this 
congenial labor, then. there was the brisk walk home 
to meet the children at a light lunch, and look after 
baby. She found the little fellow supremely con- 
tented with his new quarters, having made loving 
advances to a gray kitten who, though suspicious of 
his favors, was too meek to escape them ; and Mrs. 
Hoffstott declared he had been so goot as nefar 
vas ! ” The older children were voluble over their 
school, Morton talking most of the great, cheerful 
rooms, with their wonderful conveniences for study ; 
while Molly expatiated at large over a little girl with 
the euphonious name of Henrietta May Hendrington, 
with whom she seemed to have fallen rapturously in 
love ! 

Half-past one found them all at work again, and 
the afternoon hours were even shorter than those of 
the morning to all but baby, who began to grow 


78 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


homesick towards four o’clock, and who could not be 
comforted, even by the children, who were out of 
school at three. He wanted his “Wawa,” and no 
one else. It was really pathetic to see how the little 
fellow clung to her, hiding his pretty wet eyes in 
her neck, and lovingly patting her shoulder, as he 
crooned his wordless reproaches in her ear, and Mrs. 
Hoffstott, looking on, thought this must indeed be 
a good sister to win such hearty affection, and felt 
her own motherly heart warm to the forlorn little 
orphaned brood. But, as Sara climbed the steep 
staircase, with the child clasped close, and opened 
the door of their little snuggery above, her heart was 
full. How had the loving Father cared for his chil- 
dren ! Here she was, a princess indeed, in her own 
domain, surrounded by her loving subjects ; and when 
she shut the door she seemed to shut ouc sorrow 
and care, for here all was peace. 

How they enjoyed the nice hot supper, and the 
visit afterward, baby in Sara’s lap, warming his pink 
toes before the bit of a blaze, which these chill 
nights of early spring demanded ! Then, when the 
little fellow was in bed, out came the books, and all 
was still, as Molly hunted out lakes and rivers, Mor- 
ton puzzled over fractions, and Sara revelled in 
Owen, ready at any moment to give her help to the 
younger ones. 

Perhaps some dainty miss of eighteen, enjoying 
her first winter in '‘society,” and counting up her 
bouquets and admirers after last night’s party, might 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. 1 79 

think it too tame an existence ; but to Sara, reared 
amid toil, privation, and loneliness, it was a veritable 
bit of Eden. 

It could not be expected that such a beautiful girl 
as Sara could cross the campus several times a day, 
and pass unobserved by the hundreds of students who 
felt this to be their special stalking-ground ; and 
finally, one morning when an unusual number of 
graceless young “Sophs” and “ Freshes ” were on 
guard there, she was subjected to so many stares, 
smiles, touchings of the hat, and half-heard remarks, 
that she entered the workroom with flushed cheeks 
and a perturbed manner which could not well escape 
the professor’s keen eyes. 

“You have walked too fast. Miss Olmstead ; there 
is no such hurry these sunny mornings.” 

“ It isn’t that, sir ; I — it is not agreeable crossing 
the campus.” 

“ Ah ! ” with a lift of the eyebrows and a quizzical 
look at the lovely disturbed face before him. “ I can 
well believe it ! Well, there’s a better way, if you 
would like to try it ; at least a more secluded one,” 
giving her a keen glance. “ When you come down 
College Avenue, watch till you see a large brown 
house with a tower, and a porch with heavy pil- 
lars ” — 

“ Oh, yes, sir ; and a deep green lawn in front ; 
I’ve often noticed it.” 

“ Very well,” smiling agreeably, “ that’s my home. 
Turn in at the carriage-drive, and follow it until you 


i8o 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


see an opening in the hedge ; go through, and keep 
to the little foot-path ; it will bring you here, for it’s 
my own private way.” 

“ Thank you,” said Sara, “ I will be very glad to 
use it,” and seated herself at her desk in the 
business-like way she was acquiring, much to the 
professor’s secret amusement. 

That noon, as he sat opposite his wife at table, he 
said, — 

“Marian, J want you to look out of the window 
about a quarter past one, and you will see a rara avis'' 

“ Goodness ! Henry, you’re not having any of 
those horrid dinornis things brought to the house, 
are you 

He laughed. 

“ No, my dear ; this rare bird I have in mind is 
simply a handsome girl, who doesn’t enjoy being 
stared at by the students, — in a word, my little 
helper. Miss Olmstead, — and I’ve told her to travel 
by my own cross-roads, because she comes in all of a 
flutter, mornings, after running the gantlet of those 
college scamps on the campus.” 

His wife gave a quick, appreciative nod. She was 
a pale, dark-eyed woman, with a face of rare intelli- 
gence and sweetness. 

“ Indeed I do want a peep at her, Henry ; she’s 
the fisher-girl with the family on her hands, that 
Madame Grandet told us about, isn’t she } " 

“Yes, the same; let me give you another cro- 
quette, wife.” 


FROM KILLAMET TO DARTMOOR. l8l 

“ No, thanks ; I’ve sufficient. And how does she 
appear, very provincial.?” 

“ Not at all, that I can see, unless to be modest 
as a violet, and business-like as a night-editor, be 
provincial. She speaks good English, and sensible, 
too, in a peculiarly pleasing voice, and has the most 
finished manners, to my notion ; for she goes quietly 
about her affairs without fuss or remark, and says 
what there is to say in brief, clean words. No, she 
•is anything but oiitr^!' ^ 

“ Really, my dear, I never heard you praise a 
woman so highly before.” 

He smiled quietly. 

“ I neither praise nor dispraise, Marian ; they are, 
with one notable exception simply out of my ken, 
ordinarily ; but I like this little girl, where she is, 
unusually well.” 

“ Be sure, then, I shall watch for her with all my 
eyes ! Don’t forget your papers, dear ; oh, and turn 
your pockets inside out at once, please, till I see if 
you have any of my letters yet undelivered !” 

He obeyed with a matter-of-course air, which 
showed this to be a common occurrence with the 
absent-minded scientist, and having yielded up two 
dainty, square missives, which he had not carried 
more than two days, took his departure. 

An hour later Sara turned in at the designated 
carriage-drive, and followed its windings up near the 
house, then off towards the dividing hedge, never 
seeing two bright, interested eyes which were peer- 


i 82 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ing through the filmy lace curtains, and taking 
pleased note of her trim, erect figure in its black 
dress, and lovely, thoughtful face, below its plain 
straw hat ; then passed through the hedge, and, with 
all the delight of a child exploring some bit of 
woodland, followed the well-worn little path, which 
crossed a corner of the next yard, then skirted a 
tennis-court, wound by a rather suspicious-looking 
dog-kennel, then led into an unused grassy lane, 
reminding her so gently of home that she longed to 
linger ; but, pressing on in her narrow way, she 
finally brought up before a gray stone pile, in which 
was a small door, and, opening it with some caution, 
found herself in the tiny square entry just back of 
the familiar cloak-room. 

Professor Macon took in her pleased face at a 
glance. 

“ You liked my little by-way ?” he asked. 

“ Immensely ! ” with a hearty accent. “ May I 
always use it ” 

“ Most assuredly ! ” and without more words both 
bent to their absorbing tasks. 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. 1 83 


CHAPTER XIV. 

NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, AND A NEW LOSS. 

The sale of Sara’s collection to Professor Grandet 
brought her a neat little sum, with which she added a 
few much-needed articles of furniture to her rooms, 
making them more modern and comfortable ; and 
through Mrs. Hoffstott she finally succeeded in find- 
ing a trusty little girl, who was glad to come during 
the hours of Sara’s absence to tend baby and do the 
left-over bits of work for the pittance she could 
afford to pay. Even this left a perilously small 
amount for the house expenses, and the clothing of 
the four ; but the latter necessity was made easier 
by Madame Grandet and Miss Prue, both of whom 
found they had many articles too good to throw 
away. The latter had pressed enough of these upon 
Sara, during the packing, to make Molly and herself 
quite comfortable, for, as Miss Prue always wore 
black, her dresses were suitable now ; and the 
madame had come to the rescue with some of the 
professor’s cast-off trousers for Morton’s use. 

It was one Saturday afternoon, and Sara, conse- 
quently, at home by three o’clock, when she stood, 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


armed with a pattern and some formidable-looking 
shears, about to attack a light gray pair of these, 
when there came a quick little “ rat-tat-tat at the 
door. 

“ Open it, Molly,” she said abstractedly, thinking 
it might be either Kathie or Grisel ; but instead of 
the round pink and white face and yellow braids 
she looked for, there appeared a tall lady, richly 
dressed, whose pale, fine countenance was quite 
unfamiliar. 

The lady advanced. 

“ This is Miss Olmstead, I know ; and I am Mrs. 
Macon. I have often seen you through the window 
at home.” 

Sara greeted her with a blush, and drew forward 
the best chair, inwardly experiencing a deep regret 
that she had not changed the baby’s pinafore, and 
had kept her cutting operations in the parlor. 

Mrs. Macon, however, seemed to notice neither, 
but praised the baby’s pretty rings of hair, saying 
he reminded her of one of Raphael’s cherubs, and 
asked Molly about her school, taking in, with evident 
amusement, the child’s original answers, and little 
twists and tosses, till Sara could recover her equa- 
nimity, and be her own quiet self once more. Then 
she turned to her with some word of commendation 
for her laborious life, and added, with a light laugh, — 

“ You looked quite fierce with your great scissors 
as I came in. It wasn’t the baby’s hair you thought 
of cutting, I hope ?” 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. 1 85 

** Oh, no, indeed ! I wouldn’t cut his dear little 
curls for anything ! I was trying to — to cut out 
some pants for Morton.” 

“ You poor child ! What a genius you must be to 
attempt it ! Do you think you can } ” 

The tone of perfect camaraderie seemed to drive 
away the last vestige of Sara’s shyness. 

“ I have once or twice at home, but it’s different 
here : the boys dress better, you see, and Morton’s 
getting very particular. I’ve a good pattern, but I 
do feel a bit frightened to put my scissors into the 
goods.” 

Of course you do,” rising, and going over to the 
table to look at the pattern pinned carefully over the 
old garment. “ But, my dear, couldn’t you cut to 
better advantage by turning this a little } Here, let 
me show you.” 

With a rapid movement she unfastened and cast 
aside the jetted lace wrap she wore, and filling her 
mouth with pins, after the manner of womankind, 
began mumbling her explanations, as she turned and 
twisted the paper about, Sara, meanwhile, looking 
on with the earnestness of a priestess of Athene, 
listening to her oracle. 

Months of meeting in fashionable parlors could 
not have made them so intimate as those ten minutes 
over that pattern, while their heads bobbed together, 
and their tongues ran on in unison. For when it 
was adjusted, Mrs. Macon insisted on superintending 
the cutting, and when this was satisfactorily accom- 


86 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


plished, to the exclusion of the one worn place, 
and the ink-spatters, she was as elated as Sara her- 
self. 

“There! We’ve done it, we’ve done it! Now, 
if you only get them together right ; you’re sure 
you’ll remember which is the front, and which the 
back, and when you stitch them — where’s your 
machine ? ” 

“ I haven’t any,” said Sara. 

“ Dear heart ! And were you going to sew those 
long seams by hand } ” 

Sara nodded deprecatingly, as much as to say she 
knew it was wrong not to have a machine, but she 
couldn’t help it ; and her visitor was so charmed with 
the look in her sweet eyes, that She gave her cheek 
a playful little tap as she said, — 

“ It’s not to be thought of ! I’ve an excellent 
machine which stands useless half the time ; you 
shall come and learn to use it : this will be just the 
thing to begin on. Why can’t you come now ? I’m 
anxious to see them underway, and, besides, I haven’t 
a doubt Morton needs them ; boys always are need- 
ing new trousers ! ” 

Sara had to acknowledge that he did; and the 
upshot was, that in less time than it takes to tell it, 
baby was turned over to Molly, and Sara, with her 
bundle, found herself in Mrs. Macon’s carriage, 
riding home with her, to the astonishment of the 
coachman, who had been preparing his mind for a 
long, sleepy afternoon on the box, while his mistress 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. 1 8 / 

consulted her list, and made her formal visits. The 
fact is, she had forgotten all about them; just now 
the most interesting thing in her rather monotonous 
life was Sara and those trousers. An acquaintance 
begun in this manner could never be quite formal 
again. Mrs. Macon was warm-hearted, and often- 
times weary of doing nothing in her great silent, 
childless house. She adopted Sara and her little 
brood from that moment, and to be adopted by 
Marion Macon was to fall into good and gracious 
hands. 

She led Sara, now, straight to the sewing-room, in 
which was the machine, throwing wide the blinds of 
the broad window before which it was placed. 

Did you ever use one ? ” she asked anxiously, 
as she removed the cover. 

Yes, once or twice. Miss Plunkett had one.”' 

“ Miss Plunkett ; that’s a name I know. I have 
heard my mother mention a Captain Plunkett she 
knew as a girl ; they were a good family, the Plunk- 
etts. Then you know them } ” 

Sara spoke of the life-long friendship between 
that family and her own, but in so modest a way that 
the lady’s respect for her increased with every word ; 
but both were too intent on business to give much 
time to genealogy. 

Sara proved an apt learner, and soon was making 
the treadle fly, while her hostess, seeing her well 
underway, ran down-stairs for a time. When she 
came back Sara had performed the cunning task of 


i88 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


getting the pockets in place, and was finishing off 
the long seams. 

“ How rapidly you work ! ” cried her new friend. 
“ My husband told me how business-like you were.” 

“ Did he say so ? I’m glad he thinks I am ! ” 
cried Sara, much pleased. “ It would be so annoy- 
ing to a man like him if I were not.” 

“ And why to him especially. Miss Olmstead ? ” 
asked the wife curiously. 

“ Because he is absorbed in his work, and cares 
for nothing outside. • In fact, one always is with that 
work,” enthusiastically ; “ it takes your whole being 
for the time.” 

“Yet the last girl he had was a dreadful little 
idler, and would interrupt him in the midst of his 
most interesting researches to ask the silliest ques- 
tions.” 

Sara shook her head mournfully. “ I don’t see 
how she could ! ” 

“ Well, to tell the truth,” bending forward confi- 
dentially, “ isn’t it awfully dry and uninteresting ? 
There ! I wouldn’t dare lisp it before my husband, 
but isn’t there a good deal of — of — well, humbug, 
about it } ” 

“ Humbug ! ” Sara’s eyes glowed. “ That’s be- 
cause you haven’t studied these things, Mrs. Macon. 
Think, think what it must be to have your husband’s 
power to peer into the past ! 

“Think of taking two or three bones, and from 
them constructing an animal now extinct ; or, think 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. 1 89 

of knowing from an impress on a stone, made years 
ago, what animal had walked over its then soft sur- 
face. Humbug ! oh, Mrs. Macon ! ” 

The lady laughed. 

Well, don’t for mercy’s sake, ever hint that I 
suggested such a thing ; I see you’re nearly as far 
gone as Henry himself. But, as forme, I must say 
I can’t get specially interested in post-pliocene things, 
when there’s so much going on around us ; and how 
you, with all those children to look after, and their 
clothes to make, can care for fossils and bones, and 
bits of rock and mineral, is a conundrum to me.” 

“ I hope I don’t neglect the children for the bones,” 
said Sara, so deprecatingly that Mrs. Macon laughed 
again. 

‘‘ Don’t worry about that ! They look all right, 
anyhow, what I’ve seen of them. Now come, it’s 
getting too dark to sew, and you have these nicely 
together ; fold them up, child, and come down-stairs 
with me.” 

This was the first really elegant house Sara had 
ever entered ; and as she followed the lady over the 
soft carpets, past bronze and marble, into a beautiful 
room, through whose western end, wholly of glass, 
came a rosy glow from the setting sun, she could 
hardly keep back her cry of delight. It was the 
dining-room, and seemed dazzling to Sara, with its 
rich tones in wall and rug, its buffet a-glitter with 
glass and silver, and its green garlanded windows ; 
but her native instincts were nice, so it was only 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


190 

in her eyes that this astonished admiration found 
expression. 

Mrs. Macon made a careless gesture towards the 
table, which was partly laid. 

“ Sit down, my dear,” she said, “ and we will have 
a bit of a supper together ; Mr. Macon has gone into 
the city, and won’t be back until a very late dinner. 
How do you take your tea, please ? ” 

It was a delectable little spread, nearly all the 
dishes being novelties to Sara, even the familiar 
lobster being scarcely recognizable in its Frenchy 
dress ; but she felt the refinement and delicacy of it 
all, as an infant feels the softness of velvet, not 
comprehending, only enjoying. 

In speaking of it afterwards to the children she 
remarked, — 

“ I can’t tell you what it was, for I have eaten 
meals I really relished better ; but it was there, and 
I have never experienced it anywhere else, not even 
at Miss Prue’s. It seemed as if I were in a palace, 
with soft music and sweet odors about me ; yet there 
was no music, and the only fragrance was from the 
tea. No, I can’t tell what it was; but sometime — 
sometime, Molly, I hope you will feel it too ! ” 

*‘Well, if it’s going to make me feel solemn and 
creepy I don’t want to,” said that young damsel 
with decision. “That’s the way I felt the first few 
Sundays in the church we go to here ; it was so big 
and high, and had so many colors on the walls, and 
such dark, purple corners. I kept expecting some- 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. IQ I 

thing to happen ; but I’m getting over it a little, for 
nothing ever does, you know, except the preaching 
and singing. Only, Sara, that reminds me : there’s 
one thing I’ve been going to ask you about this ever 
so long ; are the singers all hunchbacks, like Zeba 
Osterhaus ? ” 

“ Dear me ! no, Molly, I hope not. What a ques- 
tion ! ” 

“ Well, then, what makes them hide so behind 
those red curtains ? I’ve tried and tried to see 
if they were like other folks, but I couldn’t ; 
and if they are, I don’t see why they act so 
queer ! ” 

Sara tried to explain, but Molly evidently still held 
to her original opinion ; there was some mysterious 
reason for their modesty, else why did they not stand 
out plain and high, as did the village choir at home ? 
And it was many weeks before she could be moved 
from her stand in the matter. 

Sara’s work went on much the same after the close 
of the collegiate year, though now Professor Macon 
was away a large part of the time ; yet, as he was 
constantly sending home cases of specimens, she 
was usually kept nearly as busy as before. But one 
day, sitting at her desk with only a few unimportant 
odds and ends of work before her, her thoughts 
drifted away, and soon formed themselves into words 
and sentences which seemed clamoring for definite 
expression. She seized her pen and some blank 
paper, setting them down as rapidly as possible, and 


92 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


before she quite realized what she was about had 
written several pages. Finally, stopping to glance 
over her work, she felt encouraged to continue it, 
which she did till her working-hours were over. 
That night more thoughts came to her, and the next 
day she completed the article. Reading it over, and 
correcting it carefully, she decided to copy it ; and, 
while the impulse was upon her, even had the au- 
dacity to enclose it in an envelope and send it to a 
certain magazine having scientific tendencies, which 
came to the museum regularly. 

It was an article describing some oolitic formations 
she had been much interested in when at the old 
home ; and she told of her ramblings, speculations, 
and discoveries, in a modest, face-to-face way which 
gave them a certain interest in addition to their 
scientific value. 

Several days passed, and she had given up her 
fledgeling for lost, when one morning she saw amid 
the mail upon the professor’s desk an envelope ad- 
dressed to herself, and opening it found with as- 
tonishment that it was an acceptance of her sketch, 
enclosing a check for what seemed to her a large 
amount. That, she often said afterwards, was the 
proudest moment of her life. Her whole frame 
thrilled with keenest satisfaction, her whole soul was 
uplifted in thanks for this gift that seemed directly 
from above. 

The professor, back from his trip, entered just 
then, saw the glow on her face, and looked the in- 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. 1 93 

quiry he would not speak. But Sara understood the 
look. 

“ I have been much pleased,” she explained, “ by 
this,” and handed him the enclosure. 

“ What ! Really an article in the Science Made 
Pop2ilarf Well, Miss Olmstead, you are to be con- 
gratulated ! ” holding out his hand with great cor- 
diality. “May I ask what you wrote about ? ” 

She told him, and he nodded vigorously. 

“Very good, very good! I shall watch for its 
appearance ; and now I’ve a proposition to make 
you. Would you like to study Latin and French } ” 

“ I ” gasped Sara. 

“ Yes ; they are much needed in our work, as well 
as German and Greek ; but there must be a begin- 
ning. I have all the books you will need, and will 
hear your Latin recitation every morning. It won’t 
take long, and I’m sure Madame Grandet will help 
you with the French.” 

“ But they’re going away soon, are they not ^ ” 

“ He is, but she has half decided to remain. It’s 
so delightfully quiet here in summer, and only a 
short run to the seashore ; besides, she likes her 
boarding-place.” 

Sara’s eyes shone. 

“ I think every one is very good to me,” she said 
softly. 

“ Heaven not only helps those who help them- 
selves, but earth, too. Miss Olmstead ; which is only 
another way of saying that real effort always brings 


194 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


appreciation. Now we’ll take hold of that last case I 
sent, if you please. I’ll bring your books this after- 
noon — or, no ; better stop in and let Mrs. Macon 
give them to you ; she always enjoys a visit, you 
know.” 

But pleasure and pain always keep as close together 
as light and shadow; and while everything seemed 
going so prosperously with Sara in the business of 
her life, there came a new worry at home. Baby was 
evidently ailing. Each morning it became harder to 
leave that supplicating little face, and she would turn 
back to reiterate cautions to Molly, who, being out 
of school now, saved the extra expense of the little 
nurse-girl. Even after she had actually torn herself 
away from the fretful baby voice begging pitifully, — 

“No go, Wawa; ’tay baby! ” she would stop below 
at Mrs. Hoffstott’s door to beg, almost with tears, 
that she would look after things a little, and not let 
flighty Molly neglect the child ; which the good 
woman was always ready to do. Those were anxious 
days, which even the madame’s and Mrs. Macon’s 
kindness could not wholly relieve. 

And they were very kind. The latter often took 
the two children to drive, while the former brought 
baby dainties and toys to brighten his languid eyes. 

A doctor was finally called, who said his ill feel- 
ings were entirely owing to his teeth, and left some 
mild powders for him to take. But there came a 
night when he was so feverish and flighty that Sara 
dared not leave him in the morning, so sent a note 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. I95 

by Morton to the professor, stating the reason for 
her absence. The latter read it carefully, said a 
sympathizing word or two to the boy, who plainly 
showed his concern, then added kindly, — 

“Tell her not to worry at all about the work till 
the little one is quite well enough to be left ; there 
is nothing pressing just now ; and supposing you 
stop at the house as you go by, and let Mrs. Macon 
read this note. She is fond of the child.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Morton, and was about to start 
on his return, when the gentleman arrested him. 

“Stay,” he said, “what are you doing since school 
closed } Are you working at anything ? ” 

“Not much, sir; Tm helping Mr. Hoffstott in the 
bakery, carrying home orders on his busy days : it 
doesn’t take all my time though.” 

“ I suppose you are used to the management of 
boats ; you can row or sail one ? ” 

“Oh, yes, sir ! ” his eyes lighting. 

“Very well, I may have a proposition to make 
you soon, that’s all. Be sure and stop at Mrs* 
Macon’s.” 

Morton obeyed, but only to find her gone into the 
neighboring city on a shopping excursion, so hurried 
on to deliver his kindly message from the professor, 
wondering all the way what that wise gentleman 
could have meant by his remark about the boat. 

But when he reached home all these thoughts fled ; 
for he found Molly just descending the stairs, crying 
bitterly ; and when he asked what was the matter 


196 SARA, A PRINCESS. 

she only gave her hands a desperate wring and 
sobbed, — 

“Oh, the baby! the baby! Where does that 
doctor live, anyhow ? ” 

Hurrying in he found Sara, her eyes wild with 
trouble, and Mrs. Hoffstott, fairly purple with con- 
sternation, both trying frantically to bring the child 
out of a spasm. 

“ Oh, run, run for the doctor, Morton ! ” cried his 
sister. “ Baby’s getting worse. I’m sure ; and Molly 
doesn’t know the way.” 

Morton did run, but alas ! it was of no avail. The 
poor little fellow had one moment of consciousness, 
in which he feebly tried to pat Sara’s colorless cheek 
and murmur, “ Wawa deah ! ” then the beautiful 
eyes rolled back, set and glassy, the limp, dimpled 
hand dropped on his breast, and the sweet baby life 
was over. 

Sara gave a heart-rending cry, which reached Mor- 
ton and the doctor, now hurrying up the stairs ; and 
when they entered she was calling piteously upon 
the little one with every loving term her tongue was 
used to. 

The doctor drew her gently away. 

“ He is gone,” he said with solemn emphasis ; 
“his sufferings are over! Madam,” to Mrs. Hoff- 
stott, “ pray take her away for a time ; her nerves 
are all unstrung.” 

That good woman led the half-fainting girl below, 
and at once despatched Grisel for Madame Grandet 


NEW FRIENDS, NEW DUTIES, A NEW LOSS. I97 

and the minister of the church the Olmsteads at- 
tended, who were shortly there, doing their best for 
the grief-stricken little household ; while in the even- 
ing both Professor and Mrs. Macon came, the latter 
much grieved that she had been away when Morton 
called. 

All was done that could be done ; and Sara, even 
in her grief, which was for the time almost over- 
whelming, so deeply had this one of her cares and 
responsibilities taken a hold upon her nature, was 
surprised at the number of friends who seemed to 
have sprung up around them. She did not know that 
the story of her love and her struggles had passed 
from mouth to mouth, and that for the moment 
she was a heroine in their estimation. Nor did 
she know, till days later, that the lovely little blan- 
ket of white roses which wrapped the tiny white 
casket in its • soft fragrance, was the gift of 
some of those very students who had brought the 
blushes to her cheek by their too pronounced admi- 
ration. 

It softened her grief to find so much genuine 
friendliness and good-will in the hearts of even the 
strangers about her ; and when she wailed for baby 
through the lonely nights, so sadly missing the clasp 
of his warm, soft arms about her neck, there was no 
bitterness mingled with her sorrow. 

He has gone to his mother,” she wrote Miss 
Prue. I sometimes think she must have longed for 
him even in heaven ; and 1, hope she knows that, if 


98 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


I ever neglected him, it was only because I felt 
.compelled.” 

To which the good spinster answered, — 

“You have never neglected him, Sara; to that I 
am ready to bear witness. If God has seemed to 
bereave you, it is because he sees it is best ; mean- 
while, take comfort in this : you have been tenderer 
than many mothers, and more patient than many 
sisters, to this dear little brother who loved you so 
well, so do not let self-reproach add to your sorrow.” 

The words were a comfort, as they were meant to 
be ; for, with the girl’s supreme conscientiousness, 
she had been torturing herself for fear she had not 
done all that was possible for her dear one ; and, as 
Miss Prue’s word had always been law with her, so 
now she let it heal this unnecessary smart. 


MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 


199 


CHAPTER XV. 

MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 

The professor was almost fatherly kind to her 
when she took her place again at the familiar desk ; 
and, seeing how fragile and weary she looked, gave 
her but short, light tasks through those long, hot 
summer days. 

Nothing was said about renewing the so soon in- 
terrupted lessons for several days, then Sara herself 
remarked half timidly, — 

I have begun my studies again, sir, it is so lonely, 
and there is so little to do at home,” her voice 
faltering. 

He gave her a pleased look. 

“ That is right ; the best thing for you ! Work, 
my child, is not a curse, but a blessing to sorrowful 
man. Study, — write too. I happen to know they 
are ready to accept another article from you in 
Science Made Popular; I am acquainted with its 
editor. Why don’t you give him some more of your 
rambles ? ” 

Her sad eyes brightened. After all, there was 
something within her which no grief, no bereave- 
ment, could entirely affect. 


200 SARA, A PRINCESS. 

“I will,” she said; “I will pick myself up and 
begin over again.” 

“That’s right. And try some walks here. Miss 
Olmstead ; you’ll find much of interest out on the 
old road leading west, for instance. You need more 
fresh air and exercise. I’m thinking.” 

Sara took his advice, with much benefit to her 
health, as well as gain to her information and purse ; 
for she found that “ knowledge is wealth ” in more 
ways than one. 

Morton had been such a good, helpful boy ever 
since their arrival in Dartmoor, that Sara was almost 
as glad as he when the professor’s thought about the 
boat was finally unfolded, and proved to be a propo- 
sition that the lad should accompany him on a 
geological expedition down a certain river not far 
away. 

He wanted Morton to help in managing the boat, 
as well as in foraging for extra game and provisions 
along the route, and watching the stores, while he 
studied, sought, and speculated over his stony treas- 
ures ; for all of which the boy should receive a cer- 
tain consideration in money, not to mention the fun. 

“Just think, Sara, to be paid, actually for 
having the biggest kind of a picnic,” he cried raptur- 
ously. “ Now, who cares for the Mary Jane } ” 

For the next two days all was hurry and confusion, 
as he and Molly ran errands, packed and planned, with 
Sara to advise and help ; and the third saw the grand 
start. 


201 


MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 

As the river was at some distance, the first stage 
of the journey must be made by land (a great draw- 
back in Morton’s opinipn, but still to be borne with 
patience because of what was to follow), so the boat 
was mounted on a cart, and packed full of the camp- 
ing apparatus, amid which the professor and the boy 
sat in state, while a grinning Hibernian drove the 
mild animal in front. 

The professor, with his glasses, his white helmet 
and tennis-shirt, and a butterfly-net hung over his 
shoulder, was quite Oriental and picturesque ; while 
Morton, with a broad straw hat on his cleanly shaven 
head, and a blue blouse belted with leather, enjoyed 
the thought that he looked like a cowboy, and per- 
haps he did : I’ve seen cowboys who did not look half 
so well.” 

At any rate, he felt as free and joyous as one, and 
rode away with a ringing cheer, echoed shrilly by 
Molly, who was wild to go herself, and could only be 
appeased by the promise of a real picnic with the 
Hoff Stotts in the near future. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” she said, Dn the verge of tears, as the 
long boat-cart swung out of sight around the corner, 
and was lost to view, “ it’s dreadful to think I’ve 
always got to be a girl, and I may have to live a 
hundred years.” 

“Well, my dear, console yourself, then,” replied 
Sara, “for you won’t be a girl even ten years longer.” 

“ I won’t ? ” ■ 

“No.” 


202 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 

o 

“Now, Sara Olmstead, how do you know that? 
Oh, yes, you’re joking me, somehow ; I can see by 
your eyes, for of course nobody knows when I’m 
going to stop living.” 

“ How old are you, Molly ? ” 

“Why, I’ll be thirteen in eleven months.” 

“That is,” with a laugh, “you were twelve 
last month ; now in ten years how old will you 
be ? ” 

“ Let’s see,” bringing her fingers into play, “aught’s 
an aught, and two’s two,” marking that down with her 
index finger in her left palm, “ then one and one is 
two, why, that’s twenty-two, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Really, Molly, I’m ashamed of you to be so slow 
in adding.” 

“Well, I never did like addition, it’s substraction 
I’m so smart in.” 

“Yes, it must be siibstractiofiy I think,” sarcastic- 
ally. 

“ Yes, that’s it,” with entire oblivion of her sister’s 
accent ; “and now I begin to see, when I’m twenty- 
two I won’t be a girl ? ” 

“Hardly.” 

“Yes; but I’ll be a woman, and that’s worse, isn’t 
it ? Oh ! there’s Kathie, and she’s got some cookies 
that are too dry to sell ; I’m going to help her eat 
them,” with which laudable purpose away she ran, to 
forget the limitations of her sex in an operation dear 
to both. 

About a week later came this letter from Morton. 


MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 


203 


Dear Sara and Molly, — As I’m all alone, with nothing to do, 
and the gnats won’t let me sleep, and I’ve got more than we need to 
eat, so it’s no good to hunt or fish, I thought I’d start a letter, and 
when I get to a post-office again I’ll mail it. To begin at the begin- 
ning, we launched the Bonny Boon about two o’clock, and at once 
set sail for the south (we really poled the boat along, for there 
wasn’t a breath of wind, and it was hardly deep enough to keep her 
afloat ; but it sounds better to say “ set sail,” you know), and were 
making about four knots an hour, when I saw the professor open a 
long wooden box I had noticed among the outfit, and take out a gun, 
all in sections, and begin to put it together. That made me feel better, 
for I was really afraid he had forgotten how useful a gun is out camp- 
ing ; and I was so taken up watching him fit it together that I almost 
forgot my poling, till he suddenly sung out, for all the world like a 
regular sailor, “ Hard a-port, lad ! Mind your course there, or we’ll be 
swamped,” and, sure enough, I had to swing her out into the stream, 
or we’d have run aground. 

But that was the end of the marshes, and then we did rig up our sail, 
and ’twas a fine old fly, I tell you. My, how I enjoyed it ! The breeze 
had come up a little, and sent us cutting through the water as slick as 
your big knife cuts through a loaf of bread. We didn’t stop at all, 
till it was time to make camp, and then we had a real good time, for 
the professor is just like a boy here. 

He cut saplings for tent-poles, and showed me how to make the 
pins, and fasten down the canvas, then we built a nice little fire, and 
put our camp-stove over it. It is nothing but a big piece of stove- 
pipe, I should think, with a griddle on top, but works first-rate ; and 
then we got supper together. You ought to see his camp-chest, 
Sara I It isn’t much bigger than that old desk Miss Prue gave you, 
but it has everything in it, I should think ; and there isn’t an inch of 
waste room. I found everything I needed to set the table with, and 
we had canned things, and biscuit and cheese and coffee, and lots of 
nice things to eat. • Then I washed the dishes (I’m real glad now, 
that I learned at home, for the professor Said I did it as neatly as a 
girl), and then he went off, poking around with his hammer, and I 
fished. You don’t know much about fishing with a jack-light, do you ? 
It’s good fun. I caught enough for breakfast, nice little perch they 
were, and then we lay down on our blankets, stretched over pine-boughs 
in the tent, with mosquito-netting over all the openings, and slept 
like two tops. 


204 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Yesterday we had lots of adventures. First thing, I woke up just 
in time to save our provisions from some hogs which had smelled us 
out, and came down on us in a regular drove ; and they got us so 
wide awake we concluded to stay up, though it wasn’t really morning 
yet. But you don’t know how good our fried fish did taste ! I ate 
till I was ashamed, and then finished the bits in the spider ; and I 
could have eaten as many more, I guess. Then I cleared everything 
up ready to break camp, while the professor went off again, and then 
he came back, and we embarked. This was about six bells, I think. 
We hadn’t gone more than two knots when the boat began to slip 
along so easy and fast I couldn’t understand it, till the professor sung 
out, — 

“ We’re coming to a dam 1 Put her about, quick ! ” 

Then he grabbed the oars and rowed with all his might for shore. 
It seemed at first as if we would be swept along in spite of ourselves ; 
but he’s got more strength in his arms than I’d thought for, and 
then, luckily, a great tree had fallen clear out into the stream, which I 
reached for. I threw myself almost out of the boat, just holding by 
the toes, and caught hold of a little tw’ig, then a stronger one, and 
pulled the boat an inch at a time till we were safe alongside in a per- 
fect little haven. Then the professor dropped the oars, took off his hel- 
met, and wiped his face, for he was dreadfully warm ; but he only said, — 

“ That was a little close, Morton ; now we’ll have to make a 
portage.” 

Well, that wasn’t so much fun. I hadn’t thought, before, we had 
one thing more than we needed, but now it seemed as if we had a 
thousand. Sara, it took us four hours to make that portage, and my 
back hasn’t got over aching yet I 

We managed to get two men to help us with the boat, but that was 
only a small lift, it seemed to me ; and I was glad enough when the 
professor said we’d take a rest before we went on. But the dinner 
braced us up a good deal ; one thing we had was some roasted green 
corn one of the men told us to pick in his field, and it was awfully 
good, but not up to the fish. Then I stayed to watch camp while the 
professor went hunting for more stones and things, and then I had 
the biggest adventure of all. But I’ll have to tell you about that in 
my next letter, if I come across any paper, for this is all I’ve got. 

Yours truly. 


Morton. 


MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 


205 


It came in due time, fortunately for Molly’s wel- 
fare and Sara’s comfort, as the child was so consumed 
with curiosity over the adventure that she gave her 
no rest from questions and conjectures. Here it 
is : — 

Dear Sara and Molly, — I think I stopped because I was out 
of paper, and so didn’t tell you about the tramps. There were three 
of them, and I never saw worse looking men. 

I was sitting reading one of the books we brought, when I thought 
I heard something, and looked around just in time to see them come 
towards me out of the woods. I felt my heart leap right up, for I 
was all alone, and they did look wicked. The foremost man had a 
big stick for a cane, and both the others carried long switches they 
must have cut in the woods. As I jumped to my feet the first fellow 
said to sit still, sonny, he wasn’t going to disturb anybody, and wanted 
to know where my pard was. 

I said, as careless as I could, that he was just down below, hoping 
they’d think I meant down on the shore ; but they didn’t, for another 
spoke up and said he was far enough away, “ and don’t stop to palaver, 
I want some grub ! ” 

I’d kept backing towards the tent all the time we were talking; and 
when he said that, I was right in the opening, and one look inside 
showed me the gun almost where I could reach it, and I knew -it was 
loaded ! 

I felt a good deal bolder then, so I told them, — 

“You’ll have to wait till the professor comes back; these are his 
things ; ” but the men only laughed in an awful fierce kind of way, 
and said they “ guessed they didn’t care about waiting, sonny, they 
wasn’t making formal calls, and they hadn’t brought their cards, but 
they’d leave suthin’ to remember ’em by just the same ! ” 

The way they talked fairly froze me up, though ’twas a real hot 
day. So I ducked inside and grabbed the gun, but they thought I 
was so scared I was trying to hide ; so they went around kicking 
things over a good deal, and swearing like everything, but I didn’t 
care, for there wasn’t much outside the tent anyhow, except the cook- 
ing things and some mouldy bread that they were welcome to if they 
wanted it. When they saw how it was, one of them came up towards 


2^)6 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


me, and called to the rest to come on, they’d have to explore the tent 
to find what they wanted. 

I let him come to about two feet of the opening, then I stuck my 
gun in his face real quick, and yelled “ Halt ! ” as loud as I could, and 
he halted. 

I told him then he’d better get back, for this might go off, and he 
ripped out a big swear word, and told me to stop fooling with that 
gun or somebody’d get shot ; and I said I was afraid they would ! He 
kept backing all the time, and saying, “ Oh, put it down, put it down, 
sonny ! ” but I kinder thought I wouldn’t. Then they all stood off, 
and threw stones at me, and said they’d set fire to the tent, and for 
me to come out like a man, and they wouldn’t hurt me ; but I thought 
as I was just a boy I’d stay where I was. But I told ’em I’d shoot 
the first man that came near the tent, and their stones didn’t amount 
to much anyhow, for they didn’t reach me. But I really did not feel 
quite so saucy as I talked, for if they hadn’t been regular cowards 
they could have made me lots of trouble, I guess ; and when I saw 
the professor’s big white helmet coming through the trees, I tell you 
I was glad ! I called out, “ Don’t mind the men, sir. I’ve got ’em 
covered with the gun ! ” and at that they gave one look at him, and 
ran for the woods. He stood still and looked after them as surprised 
as anything ; but when I told him all about it, he laughed and laughed 
in that still, funny way he has) and said he guessed he didn’t make 
any mistake when he chose his companion ; and I thought perhaps he 
meant to praise me, but I’m not sure. This is all about the tramps. 

Good-by, 

Morton. 

P.S. — I’ve torn my pants; but the professor says, “Nevermind, 
there’s more where they came from,” and he looked at me kinder 
winkey when he said it, for you know they were made out of his old 
ones. This time it is really 

Good-by, 

Morton. 

Sara was so proud of these letters that she could 
not resist showing them to Madame Grandet and 
Mrs. Macon, both of whom were greatly amused. 
“He has evidently gotten into Henry’s good 


MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 


207 


graces, as well as his old clothes ! ” laughed the lat- 
ter. “The boy is like you, Sara, he doesn’t know 
how brave he is.” 

Sara looked up quickly. 

“ Brave, I brave ? ” she asked in surprise. “ I 
never did a really brave thing in my life ! ” 

“Didn’t you ? ” smiling, with a meaning look. “ I 
thought you had done a good many.” 

But she made no explanation of her words, and 
Sara was too modest to ask what they meant. 

Morton came home so brisk and rosy it was good 
to see him, and regaled Molly for days with the ac- 
counts of his wonderful adventures. He seemed to 
have quite recovered from his longings for a sea- 
life, and was almost as much interested in certain 
scientific studies as Sara herself. In fact, their 
autumn rambles together were pleasures whose mem- 
ory lingered with both for many a year. 

One morning in November, Sara saw, among the 
letters on the desk, a creamy square with her own 
name upon it, and nearly had her breath taken away 
upon opening it, to find it was an invitation to a din- 
ner given by one of the faculty in honor of a distin- 
guished scientist from abroad, who was to deliver a 
lecture before the students the coming week. 

. She glanced from it to Professor Macon, who was 
busy writing, but, seeing no solution of the matter in 
his face, resolved to consult his wife about it, and 
stopped in on her way home - that noon for the pur- 
pose. 


208 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Oh, you are invited, then ! ” cried Mrs. Macon 
with satisfaction, as Sara explained her errand. “ I 
was sure you would be.” 

l‘But how could you think so? I, a fisherman’s 
daughter.” 

'‘You, Sara Olmstead, the writer who is already 
being noticed in the literary world ! Why shouldn’t 
you be asked. I’d like to know ? ” 

“But, dear Mrs. Macon, what shall I wear? how 
shall I act ? ” 

“ Ah ! now you are talking sense. ‘ What shall 
you wear?’ Sara, you must have a white dress.; 
something with long, soft folds, and — yes — and, 
trimmed with swan’s-down. That will be so becom- 
mg. 

“ Yes, and cost a small fortune ! ” 

“No, not as much as you think. A cashmere will 
do, and that reminds me. I’m to have a dressmaker 
here the first of the week; she shall give me an 
extra day or two, and make your dress, then I can be 
sure it is all right. And never mind about the 
swan’s-down ; for I have some on a dress, I think 
almost enough, that I have only worn once. She 
shall rip it off for you to wear on this great occa- 
sion.” 

“ O Mrs. Macon, how good you are ! ” 

“Good? Why, this is fun for me. You must go 
with us, of course. Yes, and we’ll ask the Grandets 
to go in our carriage too ; ’twill make five, but no 
matter ; you’re little, and can squeeze in between the 


MORTON HAS A PICNIC. 209 

two gentlemen for that short distance : and, fortu- 
nately, cashmere doesn’t show mussing badly.” 

“But, Mrs. Macon, I’m afraid” — 

She stopped, coloring daintily. 

“ Well, of what } ” 

“ Won’t you be — ashamed of me ? I never went 
to a dinner-party in my life. There are a great 
many forks and spoons to manage, aren’t there ? ” 

“ Simplest thing in the world, that, my dear; begin 
with whatever is next your plate. If you think 
you are wrong at any time, dally a little, and watch 
your hostess. By the way, this invitation is for two 
weeks ahead, and Thanksgiving is next week, Thurs- 
day ; you shall practise here ! I was going to see 
you soon, to invite all three of you to dine with us 
that day ; will you come ? We shall ask the Gran- 
dets also, but no one else.” 

“You are exceedingly kind, Mrs. Macon ; we will 
be more than happy to come. I had dreaded the 
day,” softly. 

“Yes, my dear, anniversaries are sad things ; but 
we will try and enjoy this one. And don’t hesitate 
to ask about anything that puzzles you at our table. 
These little fads of etiquette are easily learned, 
after one has acquired that real politeness which 
must become a part of the character ; and that you 
have, Sara.” 

“ Thank you for your encouragement, dear Mrs. 
Macon ; I shall try not to put you to the blush.” 


210 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 

When Morton heard of the two invitations, and 
something of the foregoing conversation, as they sat 
over their cosey supper that evening, he kept quite 
still, while Molly was running on with questions, 
suggestions, and comments, till there was a lull ; 
then he looked up at his elder sister with a queer 
expression. 

“Supposing, Sara, I had gone with Uncle Jabez 
Wanamead, and then should come home a rough fish- 
erman, while you were learning how to be polite; 
would you have been ashamed of me.^” 

“ No, Morton ; but I shall be much prouder of 
you if you will have the bravery and honesty of a 
fisherman, with the education and manners of a gen- 
tleman, and the spirit of a Christian ; that ought to 
make a man for any sister to be proud of.” 

"“Well,” he said, drawing in his breath, “I’ll say 
it now, Sara, I’m glad you stuck out so against my 
going in the Mary Jane. While I was off with the 
the professor we were by the sea a day or two, and I 
went aboard a smack. It was a better one than 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 21 I 


that, too ; but I was glad I hadn’t a berth there, for 
somehow things did look dreadfully rough to me that 
day. There was a boy about my age, and the men 
swore at him nearly every word they said, and he 
swore too, and chewed and smoked and drank his 
grog ; and he seemed real proud to think he could 
take it down clear without staggering. I was glad 
to get back to the professor, Sara, but I would like 
t@ have a yacht of my own, and sail all over the 
world after specimens for the museum ; wouldn’t 
that be fine ? ” 

“ Perhaps you may some day ; who knows ? 
Stranger things than that have happened.” 

It was a very nice-looking trio which turned into 
Mrs. Macon’s gate after church Thanksgiving Day. 
The checks Sara received for her articles were of 
great assistance in clothing them comfortably for the 
winter ; and she glanced with almost motherly pride 
from tall Morton, in his neat overcoat and derby, to 
Molly, pretty as a pink, with her flying curls and 
scarlet cheeks, in a dark blue serge trimmed with 
fur. 

She forgot herself, but no one else would have 
done so ; for the slender figure in black, with a close- 
fitting jacket and trig little hat, was so symmetrical, 
while the face above had such a charm, both of fea- 
ture and expression, that few could pass her by 
unnoted. 

Mrs. Macon welcomed them with gay cordiality. 

“ Dear me ! How sweet you do look, Sara!” giv- 


212 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ing her a motherly kiss. “ But you’ll have to look 
out for this young lady or she’ll eclipse you yet ! ” 
pinching Molly’s dimpled cheek. “ How the child is 
shooting up ! I’ve a surprise for you, Sara. I hope 
it will be a happy one.” 

“ I think your surprises are always happy, Mrs. 
Macon.” 

“As are your remarks, Sara. Well, come, Madame 
Grandet is below.” 

They descended to the beautiful drawing-room, 
where, in the softened light, Sara was conscious of 
several figures ; the ma'dame, lovely in a Frenchy 
toilet, with a dash of scarlet here and there, rose to 
greet them, while the little group of black coats just 
beyond separated and turned, resolving itself into 
her host. Professor Grandet, and — Robert Glen- 
denning ! 

The last named came forward with an eager move- 
ment, and Sara’s heart stood still a minute, then 
plunged on with rapid beats, as he took her hand and 
bent over it with an earnest greeting. He looked 
well, as she quickly observed, having broadened into 
proportions better suited to his height, and his eyes 
seemed more brilliant than ever as they met her own. 

» “ This is my surprise, Sara,” laughed Mrs. Macon ; 
“ and you know,” mischievously, “ they are always 
happy ones. I think you have remarked it yourself.” 

But Sara only answered by a look : her words did 
not come readily just then. 

“ He have come last night,” said the madame. 







THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 213 

beaming upon her nephew, “ so that it was to all of 
us a surprise, for we have not expect him.” 

“ Indeed ! As if you could think. Aunt Felicie, 
that I would eat my Thanksgiving turkey in a 
boarding-house, when ” — 

“Ah! but that is what you would then do, .if our 
friends had not so kindly invite us here, Robare ; are 
not your uncle and myself also in a boarding-house.?” 
a reply which rather nonplussed the young man for a 
moment. 

But, fortunately for his embarrassment, the do- 
mestic just then announced dinner, and Mrs. Macon 
said, — 

“ Henry, will you give your arm to madame .? 
And you, Mr. Glendenning, to Miss Olmstead ; I 
will do myself the honor of walking in with Professor 
Grandet ; and Pm sure Morton will be happy to 
escort his better half, as I suppose a twin sister may 
be called.” 

As they passed through the hall, Sara’s escort 
said in a low tone, — 

“ I have heard of your sorrows and your joys 
through my good aunt. Tell me one thing, is your 
life any happier, broader, better, amid these new 
surroundings.?” 

“Yes,” said Sara, “I believe it is ; and yet, some- 
times my very soul is sick for the sight and sound 
of the sea, and for the roughest greeting from one of 
our good old weather-beaten fishermen at home.” 

“ I am glad that is so. You are too loyal to for- 


214 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


get easily ; but still you would not go back, would 
you.^ ” 

“No, never;” smiling up into his face. “There 
is no plan for going back in my life ; only for going 
forward.” 

He«smiled in return, but the bustle of taking their 
seats prevented any answer. When all was quiet 
again, Sara had time to notice that she had been 
placed where she could observe every motion of her 
hostess, and even as the thought crossed her mind, 
she caught that lady’s eye and a telegraphic glance 
passed between them. Sara’s said, “ Help me ! ” 
Mrs. Macon’s replied, “ Watch me ! ” at which both 
smiled slyly, and turned to the next neighbor with 
some light remark. 

Morton and Molly had been so drilled in their 
deportment before they came, that each sat now stiff 
and solemn as martinets awaiting some command ; 
Morton, eying hopelessly the tiny bouillon -cup 
before him, with the healthy appetite of a boy who 
had not eaten anything since an early breakfast ; 
while Molly, after a stony rigidity of perhaps two 
minutes, suddenly gave a little twist and drew a sigh 
as long and lugubrious as the wail of an autumn 
blast. Professor Macon looked at her with twink- 
ling eyes. 

“ Don’t be discouraged. Miss Molly,” he whispered 
leaning towards her, “ there is a turkey somewhere. 
I’m sure, for I had a sniff of it myself some time 
ago.” 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 21 5 

Her eyes brightened, and she whispered back in 
the same confidential way, — 

“ You see, I don’t like beef-tea very well, and I do 
love turkey. But, of course, if it’s the thing ” — and 
she submissively took up her spoon, prepared to 
attack the decoction. 

Sara’s cheeks had grown red at this ; but when 
the professor added, — 

“ Between you and me, Molly, I think it’s only fit 
for sick folks myself ; but I suppose, as the saying 
is, we must eat by the card ; ” at which everybody 
laughed good-naturedly, her worried feeling wore off, 
and she began to think it would not, perhaps, be an 
unforgivable offence if one of them did commit a 
blunder or two. 

In fact, by the time the bouillon disappeared to 
make room for the next course, she had quite for- 
gotten her worries, so deeply was she interested in 
what Robert was telling her of the wonderful growth 
and vigor of his city home, Chicago ; while the chil- 
dren, unwatched and well occupied, fell into order like 
well-trained soldiers ; Molly now and then flinging 
out some naive remark which sent a ripple of laughter 
around the table, at which Morton would begin try- 
ing to frown her down, in his elder-brotherly way, 
and end by laughing with the rest. 

When the ladies had returned to the drawing-room 
and coffee, leaving the gentlemen deep in a political 
discussion in the professor’s snuggery, just off the 
dining-room, Mrs. Macon saw the children happily 


2I6 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


interested in some beautiful photographs of Euro- 
pean scenes, viewed through a powerfully mounted 
lens, then turned to the others. 

“ Come,” she said, “ I want you to go up-stairs 
with me, and see Sara’s dress. My dressmaker has 
done wonders the past week, and it is nearly ready.” 

They followed her to the little sewing-room, which 
Sara so well remembered as the first apartment of 
this hospitable house into which she had ever been 
introduced, and there lay the white gown over a 
chair. After viewing it critically, Sara in a quiet 
rapture, and madame with all a French woman’s 
enthusiasm and epithets, Mrs. Macon said impul- 
sively, — 

“Do try it on, Sara; I’m a little afraid about this 
skirt ; it looks short in front, and you know she has 
had to go almost entirely by measure, so far ; here, 
let me pin the rest of this swan’s-down in place, while 
you take off your dress.” 

Sara obeyed without a murmur, feeling all the 
delight of any young girl in trying on her first even- 
ing gown, while her two tire-women stood by, patting, 
punching, pulling, and commenting, as women will, 
’ pronouncing it a perfect fit, and quite long enough. 
When it was finally adjusted, they stepped back, and 
the little madame drew a long breath. 

“ Ah ! but she is beautiful ! ” she said in her own 
language ; “ she might be one of the old noblesse,” 
while Mrs. Macon, controlling her delight, re- 
marked, — 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 21/ 

“It is becoming, my dear : you have one of those 
peculiar complexions dead white only enhances. You 
look taller, too, a full inch, in that train. Really, the 
children ought to see you ; let’s go down-stairs and 
take them by surprise.” 

Sara, believing them still alone, did not object ; 
and Mrs. Macon, if she had heard a closing door, and 
steps through the hall below, did not think it neces- 
sary to mention the circumstance. So down they 
went, the two attendants in front, and Sara following, 
with possibly a little intensification of her usual 
measured and stately tread. Thus they entered the 
drawing-room, the two ladies parting to right and left 
before her, as might two maids of honor attending 
some royal personage, the stately white-robed figure 
advancing, with head slightly bent, as if in modest 
disclaiming of all this parade over one so young. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Molly shrilly, “ it’s Sara, and she 
looks like a queen ! ” while the three gentlemen, 
farther down the room, turned quickly from their 
talk, and one said, under his breath, — 

“ A princess, indeed ! ” 

Then they all surrounded her, even dignified Pro- 
fessor Macon showing his enjoyment of the mas- 
querade, while Professor Grandet spread out both 
hands, and cried, “Beautifool! Beautifool ! ” in a 
French rapture. 

Only Robert Glendenning said nothing more, 
unless eyes speak ; but Sara did not seem to miss the 
lack of words on his part. 


2i8 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“It is strange, now,” observed the host reflec- 
tively, after the first outburst had subsided, “ what a 
transformation dress is ! I shall never again quite 
dare to think of Miss Sara as a little girl ; she has 
crossed the brook, she has entered into woman’s 
kingdom, and all because of a long white gown ! ” 

Sara turned to him. 

“ Oh, please, sir, I’d rather be the little girl. I ” — 
with a pathetic tremble in her voice, “ I’m barely 
twenty yet, and I’ve never had much of a girl- 
hood.” 

The little cry, right from her heart, sent a thrill 
through every one ; and there was not a person in the 
room, even to careless Molly, who did not, then and 
there, resolve that whatever was in their power 
should be done to bring that brightness into her life, 
in which it had been so greatly lacking. Robert 
Glendenning sought his aunt’s eyes, and in his she 
saw an indomitable resolution, while in hers he read 
a sudden yielding, which made his heart leap with 
joy ; for he knew no step could be a happy one for 
him which did not meet with her full approval. 

The rest of the evening passed swiftly and merrily 
" away, Sara once more in her plain black dress, mod- 
estly bearing her part in the bright, animated con- 
versation, in which even the children were interested, 
as well as instructed. When they separated to their 
homes, Robert said, — 

“Miss Sara, with your permission, I will walk 
home with you ; I want to see where you live, and 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 2ig 

besides, there are a good many lawless students on 
the street to-night.” 

“And won’t we see you again, Mr. Glendenning .? ” 
asked his hostess. 

“ I fear not, Mrs. Macon ; I leave to-morrow at 
nine o’clock.” 

“ Your stay is short.” 

“ Yes, very ; a business trip mostly, which I man- 
aged to bring about to take in Thanksgiving Day. 
Let me thank you for helping to make it one of the 
happiest I have ever known.'’ 

“ I think,” smiling mischievously, as she gave him 
her hand, “ your thanks are due elsewhere ; but as I 
never refuse anything that is offered me, so I won’t 
these ; and allow me to say,” with intense meaning, 
“as far as I am concerned, you are welcome!'' 

“ Thank you again ! Miss Olmstead, are you 
ready ? I’ll be home soon, aunt ; good-night. Profes- 
sor Macon,” and Sara was conducted down the steps, 
her heart beating, and her head whirling with new, 
strange, unfathomable thoughts. 

The dinner-party came off in due dourse of events, 
and Sara went through the ordeal with credit to her 
quartet of guardians. Indeed, she made so favor- 
able an impression upon several that they really 
longed for a more extended acquaintance, and, for a 
time, invitations became quite'a common affair. But 
she accepted these most sparingly. 

“ I can never return them,” she said to Mrs. 


220 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Macon, “ and I do not like to be under obligations, 
except to those I love,” with a sweet look into her 
friend’s face. 

‘‘Yes, my dear, that is right, only in these cases 
the people expect no return, knowing fully your cir- 
cumstances ; your acceptance and enjoyment repay 
them sufficiently.” 

But Sara shook her head. She had her own ideas 
of these things, and besides, it was no trial for her, 
the doing without society. Here, as in Killamet, she 
preferred books to people ; though she was often 
charmed to find herself deeply interested in some 
individual, who upon acquaintance developed quali- 
ties she had only dreamed of before. But it was 
simply as individuals that these interested her ; 
taken en masse the world of men and women seemed 
cold almost to cruelty. After one or two evenings 
out, she went back to her books with a warm feeling 
of attachment. 

“You cannot disappoint me, dear old friends!” 
she whispered lovingly, and the next invitation was 
answered by a formal regret. 

So the winter passed quietly and swiftly away ; for 
busy time is always swift time, and all three of our 
Olmstead household were thoroughly busy : Sara with 
her writing added to the museum work ; Morton with 
his studies, in which he was growing deeply inter- 
ested ; and Molly in a little of everything. She had 
no special fondness for books, but a real genius for 
cookery and housework, most of which now devolved 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 221 


upon her in their modest establishment. But Molly 
was growing very pretty too, not with Sara’s delicate, 
spirituelle attractions, but with a saucy, piquant, be- 
witching charm of her own that the students were 
not slow to notice, and which Molly was not slow to 
appreciate, and make the most of. 

Still, Sara did not for some time take any notice of 
this ; for she could not understand that what to her 
was a nuisance, and to be gotten rid of at once, was 
to Molly the source of the greatest amusement and 
delight, — their street admiration and attentions. It 
came upon her with a shock, one day, to find herself 
on the sidewalk behind some tall-hatted young sprig, 
accompanied by her little sister, rattling on to him 
with smiles, dimples, and tosses, in her own peculiar 
way, as if she had known him all her life, and she 
could scarcely wait to get the child indoors, before 
she began, — 

“ Molly, who was that t ” 

“ That } Why, I’ve forgotten his name,” coolly. 
“ He’s a ‘fresh ’ though, I believe.” 

“And you’re one, too, I should think!” strongly 
indignant. “What in the world were you doing.?” 

“Oh, just talking and laughing.” 

“ When you don’t even know who he is .? O 
Molly I ” 

“ Well, what of it .? All the girls talk to them, 
coming home from school, and nobody thinks any- 
thing of it but you I ” pouting and frowning, in her 
growing anger. 


222 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Sara looked at her with suddenly-awakened eyes. 
Even in her petulance she was wonderfully pretty, 
with her great surprised eyes, saucy little nose, and 
exquisite coloring ; and a sudden sense of her help- 
lessness, if this little sister should also prove to be 
vain, and careless of her good name, came over her 
with such crushing force that she dropped into a 
chair, feeling almost faint for the moment. Molly, 
frightened at her sudden pallor, cried out, — 

.“What is it, Sara.^ What have I done Is it 
such a sin to walk with a student on the street ^ ” 
Sara shook her head helplessly. 

“ If I could only make you understand, Molly : you 
miLst understand ! See here,” with intense earnest- 
ness, “ we are all alone in the world, Molly, you and 
Morton and I, all alone, except for a few friends, 
whose only interest in us depends upon our worth- 
iness. Don’t you see how careful we must be } We 
have no home, no money, no anything, except our 
good name : we must keep that ! Nothing, nothing, 
must take it from us. The Bible says it is more 
precious than rubies, and it is, Molly, it is; indeed, 
with us it is everything ! If you had a father and 
mother to back you, possibly you could make such 
acquaintances without harm, though it seems to me 
a hazardous thing, even then ; but now it is absolutely 
dangerous ! Promise me, Molly, that this shall end it.” 

“ If I promise I shall break it,” said the honest 
girl ; “ for they ivill speak to me, and I shall forget 
when I’m away from you.” 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 223 

“Then, Molly,” with sudden resolution, “ I shall 
resign my position, and take you back to Killamet. 
I can make enough with my pen to keep us from 
starving.” 

Molly looked at her, and knowing she was in 
deadly earnest burst out, — 

“ Oh, don’t do that, Sara ; ’twould be too dreadful ! 
I’ll try, I really will ; but you must remember I’m 
not like you. I don’t care for books, and I do like 
people ; and it’s awfully lonesome with nobody but 
you and Morton ! Other girls have parties and rides, 
and lots of nice times ; and I don’t even have girl- 
friends to come and visit me ; it’s lonesome, it is ! ” 

Sara felt the force of this as she had never felt it 
before. Here was a nature as opposite to her own 
as the two poles. The books, thoughts, and work, 
which gave her such pleasure were all a weariness to 
this sunny, companionable creature, longing for life, 
merriment, and all youthful pleasures. Could she 
greatly blame the child } And her tones softened as 
she said, — 

“ Poor little girl ! Have I kept you too close } 
Believe me it was for your good.” 

At this Molly weakened instantly, and two arms 
flew about' Sara’s neck, while a penitent voice, 
cried, — 

“I know I’m just as mean as I can be, and you’re 
<he best sister in the world ; but oh ! I do wish I could 
ride horse-back, and go to parties and picnics, and 
have stacks of girls all the time, then those silly 


224 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


students might go to gr — I mean to College, where 
they belong ; for I wouldn’t care a cent for the whole 
lot of them ! ” 

Sara laughed. After all, there was something in 
this honest, transparent child, from which evil had 
always seemed to slide, as dust slips from a polished 
mirror ; and she said with conviction, — 

“ Molly, we’ll both do differently. I like people 
too little, you perhaps too much ; but after this I’ll 
cultivate a fondness for them. There is no reason 
why we shouldn’t both go out more, in certain ways, 
and see something of the life about us. If you will 
give up these wretched street acquaintances you shall 
have a party next Saturday.” 

“ A party ? O Sara ! ” her eyes dazzling in their 
delight. 

“ What kind of one } ” 

“ A tea-party. Let’s see, you might have nine 
girls, besides yourself ; that would about fill our table, 
and I’ll wait on you. I presume Morton will be off, 
as usual, on a geological ramble, so we needn’t count 
him.” 

“ O Sara ! and may I have the table trimmed, and 
flowers all around ? and may I make the cake } And 
oh ! ” clasping her hands together, “ may I have 
Mr. Hoffstott freeze some cream.?” 

“Yes,” laughed Sara; “yes, every one, if you’ll 
keep your part of the contract.” 

“ Sara,” with intense solemnity, “ if a student 
speaks to me I’ll look right through him, like this,” 


THE PRINCESS HOLDS A “DRAWING-ROOM.” 22 5 

with a stare of Gorgonian stoniness ; “ and if he isn’t 
completely silenced, I’ll wither him this way,” and 
she swept her sister with a slow, lofty, contemptuous 
glance, that would have scathed an agent. . 

“ O Molly ! Molly ! ” was all Sara said, as she 
laughed in spite of herself ; but she felt she could 
trust the child who, with all her faults, had not a 
grain of slyness or deception in her nature. 


226 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

MOLLY GIVES A PARTY. 

The party came off, “according to contract,” as 
Molly observed, and for a few days kept the child 
in a flutter of delight. Sara purposely left the prepa- 
rations to her, only giving advice as it was requested ; 
and even she, though so well acquainted with Molly’s 
housekeeping abilities, was astonished at the result. 
It gave her real respect for the girl to see the 
method with which she planned it all, from her list 
of invited guests to her list of grocer’s stores, 
arranged with the probable cost at the side of each 
article, that Sara might understand just how much 
money would be needed. 

Then the dishes she compounded, after intense 
calculations over the cook-book, and frequent racings 
down-stairs to consult with Mrs. Hoffstott, were 
really toothsome and delicate ; besides being brought 
about with precision and forethought, so that all 
might not crowd together at the end. 

“ Now,” she said, Friday night, consulting a much- 
worn bit of paper, and drawing a long, house-wifely 
sigh, “ now I’m all ready, except the salad, and lay- 


MOLLY GIVES A PARTY. 


227 


ing the table, and the decorating. If I only had a 
screen to put before the range, so that we needn’t 
have the table in here ! it will fill up so.” 

Sara looked up. 

‘‘ There is one in our cloak-room at the museum. 
Perhaps the professor would let you take it for this 
grand occasion, if Morton will bring it home for 
'you.” 

“ Would you, Morton ? would you ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, I suppose so ; anything for peace ! ” growled 
the latter, just glancing up from his Burroughs. 

“ That’s a lovely boy ! Well, and the flowers — 
how glad I am they’re so cheap, now ” — 

“ Oh, yes, Molly ! I forgot to tell you : Mrs. 
Macon says she has a quantity of early blossoms in 
her hot-bed, and you can have a picking from them.” 

“ Now, Sara, if you had forgotten that ! How 
good she is ! And I’m to have Mrs. Hoffstott’s 
pretty old china, with the blue forget-me-nots, and — 
well, isn’t everybody kind, anyhow ? ” 

Sara put down her book with a laugh. 

Go on, dear ; what’s the use in trying to read 
when there’s a party going on ? Talk to me about 
it ; I want to know all the arrangements ; ” and 
happy Molly ran on like a thoroughly well-oiled wind- 
mill for at least twenty minutes without a stop. 

When, at the end of that time, there was a pause 
for breath, Sara said, — 

‘^And how about the students.?” 

Molly gave a merry little laugh. 


228 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ It’s the greatest fun, Sara ! They can’t under- 
stand at all ; they look at me as if I was a Barnum’s 
fat woman, or something, and I sail right by, with 
my head up, and never see them. I think” (reflec- 
tively), “if anything, it’s better fun than the other 
way. That was too much like every girl you see, 
and this is just me alone : I really enjoy it.” 

“ Molly, you are incorrigible ! ” 

“What’s that ? I wish you wouldn’t use such big 
words, Sara ; I never could understand them ; but if 
you mean I don’t keep my promise, it isn’t so ' I 
do : you can ask Maud Wheeler if T don’t.” 

“ Is she coming to-morrow ? ” 

“Yes; and she’s your kind, Sara, — good, you 
know. You’ll like her, and so do I, when I’m in my 
right moods, but sometimes I don’t. You don’t 
know, Sara,” with a pathetic shake of her curls, 
“ how hard it is to get along when you have bad 
streaks through you ! Why, sometimes I’ll go on 
for at least three days as smooth as can be, getting 
all my lessons, and being just as good as anybody ; 
and then there comes a day that upsets it all. I 
can’t study, and I see all the funny things, and how 
I can make ’em funnier with a touch ; and I want to 
giggle at everything, and — well, it’s that naughty 
streak, and I can’t help myself, any more than you 
can help being good.” 

“ Well, Molly,” resignedly, “ promise me this, that, 
whatever you do, you’ll be out and out about it : no 
hiding, no shirking, no lies.” 


MOLLY GIVES A PARTY. 


229 


“ I never told a lie in my life, Sara Olmstead, 
never ! ” with a set of her bright head that was like 
the elder sister in her deterrqined moods. “ I’d feel 
mean forever 1 ” 

Sara smiled, and, with a rush of tenderness, bent 
forward and kissed her. 

“ No, darling, you won’t lie, thank God ! Now 
go to bed like a good girl, and be bright and rosy 
for to-morrow. Good-night ! ” 

“ Good-night, you blessed old sweet thing, you ! ” 
and with twenty kisses, and a strangling hug, the 
merry child ran off to dream, — not of students in 
elevated hats, but of creams and comfits, and pleased 
guests around a long table ; for she was but a large- 
hearted, hospitable matron in embryo. 

The party was really a brilliant success. Mrs. 
Macon sent a basketful of bright flowers, and some 
pretty draperies and decorations ; while the profes- 
sor willingly agreed to let the screen go, and insisted 
on Sara’s taking the whole day off to assist at the 
fete. The madam e came herself, and with deft 
fingers, and perfect taste, helped the two convert 
the little flat into a bower. 

No one would have known the back room, with 
bright rugs covering its painted floor, and all the 
kitcheny suggestions hidden behind the ample screen ; 
while the parlor was really charming in its tasteful 
dressings. 

When the girls began to arrive, Sara watched her 
little sister with almost a dazed feeling. How rap- 


230 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


idly this flower she had so cherished was unfolding 
before her eyes ! And what was its quality to be ? 
No modest daisy or violet certainly, nor yet a gaudy, 
flaunting tulip, but something bright, sweet, surpris- 
ing, and enticing, all at once ; and she thought of a 
carnation-pink shooting up from amid its ragged 
foliage, vivid, brilliant, and of a spicy fragrance. 
She watched the guests, also, with a critical eye, 
and was much pleased to note that Molly had shown 
good taste in their selection. They were all lady- 
like girls, evidently from good, well-guarded homes, 
and, though merry and care-free, had not a touch of 
vulgarity. 

Madame Grandet had begged the privilege of re- 
maining to help with the supper ; and you may be 
sure every dish was served with a perfection and 
daintiness of touch only the French can give. Yes, 
it was a great success ;* and when, after the last 
guest had departed, Molly came and told her sister, 
almost with tears in her eyes, how happy she had 
been, Sara felt repaid for the sacrifice of quiet and 
seclusion she had made. 

But she knew one party would not keep Molly. 
The active, restless, rapidly-unfolding nature must 
have constant occupations and interests ; so for the 
sister’s sake she did what she never would have done 
for her own. 

She began to cultivate the social life of her church ; 
went to Christian Endeavor meetings, socials, and 
Y. M. C. A. addresses. She made Morton go with 


MOLLY GIVES A PARTY. 


231 


them too, half dragging, half coaxing him ; and soon 
the three, so dissimilar, yet all so intelligent and 
well-bred, came to be looked upon as most necessary 
factors in entertainments and social events. 

When Sarah left Killamet, though she wore her 
white cross, she did not change her membership into 
any new circle of King’s Daughters, but still remained 
one of Miss Prue’s “ Helpful Ten,” as they called 
themselves in that little town. Now she and Molly 
joined a Dartmoor circle, and were soon known as 
active working members. 

All this took time, thought, and money ; and many 
times it was a puzzle to find the latter, though she 
had been drawing a slight advance in salary for sev- 
eral months, and Morton, by working in the college 
laboratory at odd hours, was now earning enough to 
clothe himself. 

Yet, even with an occasional extra cheque for her 
published articles, the expenses were so increased 
that she often had difficulty to meet them ; though, 
to Sara’s great credit be it said, the girl had never 
allowed herself a useless debt. She dare not ; the 
very thought frightened her, and Providence having 
blessed her with health, and simple wants, it had 
been possible to live within her income. 

Summer advanced with her languid days, and the 
great event of the year in Dartmoor — class day — 
came and passed. 

Last year her only interest in the parade had been 
that of a stranger seeing for the first time a novel 


232 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


spectacle ; but this year things were different. She 
and Molly now knew many of the students ; knew 
them in an orthodox, well-regulated manner, and met 
them in both private and church parlors. Morton 
sometimes brought them home at evening as well, 
and occasionally the girls went with one of them to 
a concert or lecture. Mrs. Macon often had the 
sisters to assist at her receptions, and occasional 
dinners also ; and thus, without being society girls 
at all, in a certain sense they yet did see a good deal 
of the social life in Dartmoor in one way and another. 

Professor and Madame Grandet meanwhile were 
far away, the former having joined a governmental 
party bound for South America, while the latter had 
gone to Chicago to be with her nephew during her 
husband’s absence. 

She and Sara had agreed to keep up an occasional 
correspondence ; and it was impossible that these 
things could be kept out of the letters, when they 
occupied so much of her time and attention. 

One evening the madame and Robert returned 
from a drive to Washington Park, by way of beauti- 
ful Michigan Avenue and Drexel Boulevard, and as 
they were re-entering their private sitting-room in 
the house where they boarded that lady espied a 
missive slipped into the edge of her door, and gave a 
little cry of pleasure as she tore off its end and drew 
forth the closely-written sheet. 

Robert, too, knew the bold, graceful chirography, 
and watched her hungrily as she read. 


MOLLY GIVES A PARTY. 


233 


“I should think,” he said at last in an ill-used 
tone, “you might read it aloud. It isn’t very com- 
forting to try and guess at it second-hand from your 
face, if it is a speaking one ! ” 

She looked up with a laugh. 

“ But thou art cross, then, my poor boy ? Well, 
listen and I will read, though blame me not if it is 
not always so pleasant to hear.” 

“ ‘ My dear Friend, — Time slips by so rapidly in our busy life 
that I can hardly realize whence it has flown, or recall in just what 
manner the hours have been spent. I told you in my last about the 
Bazar, and that an organ-concert was in progress. I’m sure you’ll be 
interested to know it was a success, and the necessary funds are now 
nearly raised. Molly gave a song, also a recitation, and I was so 
foolish as to consent to read an original sketch. 

You should have heard and seen Molly! I was surprised at her 
myself I Her singing is so easy and natural, and her manner so viva- 
cious, that no one seems to notice that she hasn’t any voice. At any 
rate, they recalled her twice, and it was then she gave the recitation, 
which is half a song, you know, of ‘ Christmas at the Quarters.’ 

They fairly shook the house with applause then, but she would not 
go back again. 

“ No,” she said to me in her frank way, “ it’s time for the -other 
girls to show off now — I’m done.” 

(I’m sute Molly will never be too highly cultivated to call a spade 
a spade !) 

Morton is developing a good voice, and sang in the choruses. I 
think I have spoken to you of the young man he meets so often in 
the laboratory, and so greatly admires, Mr. Preston Garth. He also 
sang that night — he has a magnificent baritone — and it was quite 
funny to hear his and Molly’s sparring, when he went home with us 
afterwards. 

He tells her frankly that she has no method, no voice, no tone, etc., 
— I am not used to musical terms, — and she saucily replies by telling 
him that, where one person will enjoy his studied renderings of the 
old masters, a score will appreciate and be the happier for her little 


234 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ballads, simply because she discards all methods and sings from the 
heart; and usually Molly talks him into silence, I suppose because 
he is too much of a gentleman to set her down as she deserves — the 
pert little Miss ! 

It is useless for me to interfere, however, as both insist on finish- 
ing the argument in their own way. Mrs. Smythe has a party to- 
night ; you remember Mrs. Smythe’s parties — ‘a little gossip, less 
lemonade, and no cordiality ’ — to quote Mr. Garth ’ ” — ^ 

A sudden exclamation from Robert, as he sprang 
to his feet, interrupted the reading. 

“ What does that insufferable puppy mean ? Who 
would ever have thought that Sara, little Princess 
Sara, would stoop to quote, and run around with, 
some fool of a singing student, an ill-natured one at 
that! I can’t ” — 

“ Robert,” said his aunt severely, “how can I then 
read if you do thus make a jack-that-jumps of your- 
self.^ Can you not sit down once again while I con- 
tinue } ” 

He sat down, frowning fiercely, and she read on, — 

“ ‘ which is too severe, but made it easier for me to refuse his kind 
invitation to accompany me there. I often wish I could learn to like 
society better, if only for Molly’s sake ; but it is still too much in the 
way of a duty that I take what, to a well-regulated mind, should be a 
pleasure.’ ” 

“ Humph I ” muttered the nephew, with a relieved 
look ; and his aunt read the remaining page in peace. 

It spoke of the Macons, her last article, etc., end- 
ing with the modest sentence, “and now, pray 
remember us all most kindly to your nephew.” 

Robert’s face lighted up at this, though there was 
a lurking trouble in his eye. 


MOLLY GIVES A PARTY. ^ 235 

“ Aunt Felicie,” he said abruptly, ‘‘what am I wait- 
ing for } ” 

“ How can I that thing tell, my nephew ? Is it 
that you have need of me to mend a button, or ” — 

“Don’t tease, auntie! You kiiow I don’t mean 
any such trivial thing. See here,” fiercely, “it’s 
been nearly three years, instead of one, and I’ve 
never changed, not for a minute. I’ve kept myself 
as pure and true as a man could ; I’ve done every- 
thing you told me to ; and now how do I know but 
some fellow, with a voice, has stepped in and spoiled 
it all I I say, what am I waiting for } I’ve a good 
salary.” 

“ Good enough for four, Robert ? If you do marry 
Sara, it must be to adopt the twins also.” 

“ Well, I will I We can scrimp along somehow ; 
and Morton will soon look after himself. I wish you 
were back at Dartmoor this minute so I could” — 

“A thousand thanks, my boy, it is a truly kind 
and filial wish,” said his aunt demurely. 

“Aunt Felicie, you’re enough to make a man wild I 
Why don’t you help me out of this, instead of tor- 
menting me so ? ” 

“ Ah, Robare, my too impatient one, could I then 
help you ? No ; if she loves you, then what is it to 
matter if there may be a hundred of fine young men 
about her now ? And if she loves you not, then 
alas ! could I create that love ? Do not so foolish 
be, my son.” 

He felt the force of her remarks, but inwardly 


236 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


chafed at the way he seemed to be tied up here for 
the present, both by business and his aunt’s pres- 
ence. He dared not put his happiness to the test of 
a letter. That would seem abrupt and strange, with 
so little to lead up to it. No, he must do as he had 
been doing all along — just wait. 

‘‘ But not for long ! ” he muttered, as he bade his 
aunt a pre-occupied good-night and strode off to his 
room. “ We’ll ‘ bide a wee,’ Sara, but only a wee, or 
my name is not Robert Glendenning !” 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


237 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 

It was only a few days after sending this letter that 
Sara received a proposition from Mrs. Macon which 
she was not slow to accept ; namely, that she should 
give up her room, store her furniture in the loft of 
their stable, and keep the Macon house for the sum- 
mer, while its master and mistress took a long west- 
ern trip. As they wished to retain their excellent 
cook as well as the gardener, these were to remain, 
at the Macons’ expense, and assist in caring for the 
premises. 

No need to say the Olmsteads were delighted with 
the plan, — especially as Sara had begun to feel that 
their rooms were far too close and stuffy to be 
healthy in warm weather, — so beautiful June had 
not yet begun to turn her back upon the young 
summer, when the Olmstead family found them- 
selves lodged as they had never hoped to be; while 
the Macons, equally co ntent w ith the arrangement, 
took their seats in a (Pullman^^ sleeper, unvexed by 
visions of tramps and fire, moths and carpet-bugs, or 
precious books ruined by dampness and mice. 


238 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


The first morning after their arrival Sara woke 
early, wooed from her light slumbers by a charming 
bird-matin^e in the shrubbery without, and gazed 
contentedly about her. 

It was such a pretty bower. Clean India matting 
on the floor, and airy cane furniture, dressed up in 
pink and blue ribbons, scattered about ; through the 
sheer muslin hangings at the windows the early sun- 
shine glinted between the closed shutters, and danced 
in bars of light upon the delicately-tinted walls. 

She nestled her head into the soft pillow with a 
sigh of intense satisfaction. 

“ One whole summer of luxury ! ” she mused. “ Is 
it possible.^ How wonderfully good our Father has 
been to us ! Friends, comfort, and a beautiful home,” 
and with these serene thoughts, mingling with the 
Pareppian carols without, she again dropped into her 
“beauty sleep.” 

Nor did this content vanish with her second wak- 
ing, but seemed to grow with every passing day ; for, 
as once all things seemed going against them, now 
all were in their favor. Morton, who had for some 
time given desultory help in the college laboratory, 
was offered a permanent position there at a modest 
salary for next year, with limited hours, so that he 
might still keep on with recitations in school ; and 
meanwhile was to act as clerk in a drug-store until 
the opening in September. 

As for Molly, she was as happy as a bird in these 
pleasant surroundings, and danced about the house 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


239 


all day long ; now concocting some delicate dish in 
the kitchen, under the supervision of Hetty, the 
cook, who had taken a great fancy to her ; now taking 
an old dress or bonnet of Sara’s, and, by a dexterous 
touch here, or a perked-up bow of fresh ribbon there, 
giving it an altogether new and elegant appearance ; 
or else feeding the birds, or lounging in the ham- 
mock, chattering with a group of girls, — always 
busy, happy, and useful, if her studies were quite 
forgotten. 

For Molly was as domestic as Sara was bookish, 
and relieved the latter now of so many little cares, 
that she found much more time to devote to her 
writing, especially as her duties at the museum were 
merely nominal during the professor’s absence, chiefly 
attending to the specimens he occasionally sent on, 
and forwarding such of his correspondence as she 
was not empowered to dispose of herself. 

To Sara the most attractive room in the house was 
the library, and she passed some of the happiest 
hours of her life in its quiet recesses. Here, every 
bit of wall-space, half way to the ceiling upon three 
sides, was given over to books ; while the fourth, 
that opposite the door, contained a most artistic fire- 
place, above which, in lieu of the sometime mirror, 
the chimney had been divided to insert a window, 
one perfect sheet of plate glass, almost as clear as 
the ether itself through which was a delightful vista 
of green mingled with the vivid glow of blossoms. 

The three other windows formed arched niches. 


240 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


apparently cut through the book-shelves ; and in one 
was a comfortable knee-hole desk, containing all the 
paraphernalia of a literary worker ; while in the 
others were the most seductive of reading-chairs, 
with book-rests attached. 

She had been sitting one day, smiling and crying 
alternately over “ Bleak House,” when a sudden 
thought brought her to an upright position, — why 
not invite Miss Prue to visit her ? When would she 
ever again be so fortunately situated to entertain her 
pleasantly ? 

“I’ll do it at once!” she said, rising briskly; 
“ Molly will be as delighted as I with the idea, for 
she has often wished Miss Prue could see how well 
off we are;” and not giving her resolution time to 
cool, she seated herself before the desk and wrote 
the invitation. 

It was promptly accepted ; and a week later Mor- 
ton met at the station, and conveyed home, a rather 
odd little figure, with the traditional band-box and 
bird-cage in hand. 

“ Here we are I ” she cried merrily to the waiting 
girls on the piazza. “ Both the spinsters, you see, 
for Polly and I are too old to be separated ! ” and, 
setting down the cage, she proceeded to embrace 
each pretty young creature with motherly warmth, 
Polly meanwhile remarking hoarsely, — 

“ How d’ye do ? Go ’long ! Come again ! * Oh, 
you fools I ” at which Sam, the gardener, appeared 
wonderingly around the corner of the house. 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


241 


“ Beg parding, Miss,” jerking off his ragged straw- 
hat, “ but I thought as how you might be havin’ 
trouble with a tramp,” glaring savagely M Miss Prue; 
“thought I heered a strange v’ice.” 

“ Oh, it’s nothing, Sam, nothing but a bird,” 
laughed Molly. 

“ A burrd ! ” he cried, with an amazed look. “ A 
burrd a-talkin’ the likes o* thot ? May all the saints 
defend us ! ” 

While the laughing group stood by, Molly intro- 
duced the fowl, with proper explanations, at which 
Polly, probably thinking it necessary to vindicate 
her powers, broke out with, — 

“ Hold yer jaw ! Get out ! Shiver my timbers ! 
What the” — 

“You disgraceful old thing!’* cried Miss Prue, 
snatching up the cage and rushing indoors, where 
she set it down with a thump on the hall-table ; 
and, dragging off her black silk wrap, proceeded 
to muffle the profane creature in its shiny folds ; 
then, turning to Sara with a distressed look, she im- 
plored, — 

“ Wi// you tell me what makes her so wicked ? 
I’ve tried my best to teach her nice little moral 
axioms from Ben Franklin and Socrates, and bits of 
poetry from Tupper, but whenever she wants to show - 
off, she goes back to that dreadful old sailor-talk she 
learned on shipboard, nobody knows how many 
years ago ; it’s discouraging I ” 

“It is, indeed!” laughed Sara, while Molly fur- 


242 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


tively lifted a corner of the wrap, in hopes to start 
Polly off again. “ But never mind Polly’s capers, 
dear Miss Prue, we know what a respectable old bird 
she is, in spite of her lapses. Come into the library, 
where it’s nice and cool, and tell me everything you 
can think of about dear old Killamet. Oh, how 
good, how good, it is to see you again, you blessed 
woman!” throwing an arm about her, and hugging 
her up rapturously, as they passed into the opposite 
apartment. 

“ What a paradise I ” cried the elder maiden, stop- 
ping short on the threshold. “ Do you tell me that 
is a window, in the middle of the chimney, or only 
some wonderful picture } I didn’t know a room 
could be made so beautiful, could express so per- 
fectly the refinement of work ” — then breaking 
loose from Sara’s embrace, she faced the young girl, 
and, taking her by the shoulders, held her at arm’s 
length, and gazed at her critically. “ Let me look 
at you,” she said, sweeping her glance slowly from 
the proud little head, with its earnest, refined face, 
down over the lissome figure in its sheer, white 
gown, even to the daintily-shod feet peeping from 
beneath it, let me see whether this is the niche you 
were intended for. Yes,” slowly and reverently, 
“yes, I see. You fit in here; you are content, 
satisfied. It isn’t the luxury, either, Sara ; that you 
could do without ; it is that better part one can 
hardly name, only feel ; and your Maker has been 
slow in shaping you that you might fit the more 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


243 


perfectly. Kiss me, dear, I am glad you are my 
daughter ! ” 

Sara kissed her tenderly, her eyes wet with tears 
of happiness ; and Molly and Morton entering just 
then, with questions as to where Polly should be 
suspended, turned the talk into lighter channels. 

The latter soon found herself chained to a perch 
of Sam’s contriving, out on the deep veranda, and for 
the rest of her stay had a string of admirers ranged 
along the sidewalk at nearly all hours of the day, 
bandying words with her ladyship. As for Sam, he 
furtively admired her as much as the street-boys, 
and would be seen to slap his thighs and double over 
with silent merriment, when she was a little more 
wicked than usual ; not that Sam was an encourager 
of vice ; by no means ; but as he confided to Hetty, — 

“ It do beat all nater to see that pious old gurrl so 
fond of a haythen creetur that’s enough to disgrace 
a pirate hisself ; an’ the quareness of it just gets 
me, it do.” 

As to the “pious old girl,” (according to Sam’s 
disrespectful characterization of Miss Prue) she had 
quite given up in despair. 

“Really, Sara,” she remarked with deep melan- 
choly, “it must be the city atmosphere” (Dartmoor 
was a town of perhaps fifteen thousand inhabitants), 
“ for, you know, she never was so perverse in Killa- 
met. I’m afraid she’ll disgrace us all ! ” Upon 
which Sara would comfort her by saying that, as 
most parrots were trained by rough people, nothing 


244 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


better could be expected, and she was sure noboay 
would blame them ; while Molly, the naughty little 
elf, would shake her curls with a solemn air, and ex- 
claim, — 

“ It’s a mercy the students and faculty are mostly 
away. Miss Prue ; I’m afraid she’d have to be ex- 
pelled if college was in session, in consideration of 
the morals of the institution ! ” 

But, in spite of Polly’s harrowing performances, it 
was a delightful visit ; yet, as often happens with de- 
lightful things, it brought to Sara a new worry and a 
great temptation. 

There were several of the young people present 
one evening ; and Miss Prue, enjoying the moon- 
lighted veranda and the music from the gas-lighted 
drawing-room, as well as anybody, watched the little 
by-plays with keen, interested eyes. Among the 
group was Mr. Preston Garth, a tall, shapely young 
fellow, whose face was redeemed from plainness by 
a pair of large intelligent gray eyes, and a ready 
smile, accented by the whitest of teeth. 

Miss Prue was attracted by his looks * and, being a 
close observer, she soon noted that, though he talked 
about laboratory matters with Morton, and was 
ready to joke or sing with Molly and the two older 
young ladies present, yet every time Sara addressed 
him, he turned to answer with an eagerly respectful 
air, different from the rather careless manner usual 
with the others. 

The next day, as she sat with her favorite in the 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 245 

cool library, Molly being away on an errand, she 
asked, apropos of nothing, — 

“ Who is that Mr. Garth, Sara } ” 

The young girl smiled. 

“ Just what you see. Miss Prue ; a college student, 
and seemingly a fine young man.” 

“ But where does he live ? ” 

“ I believe in Trenton.” 

“ Know anything about his family ? ” 

No, except that there are not many of them, I 
believe. At any rate, he has no parents. He’s 
helping himself through college partly, though I 
understand he has a small property ; that’s why he 
works in the laboratory.” 

“ H’m,” Miss Prue bent towards the light to pick 
up a dropped stitch in her knitting. He looks like 
a fine fellow ; does he come here often ? ” 

“ Ye^, rather,” Sara answered carelessly, just then 
engaged in digging about the roots of a palm in the 
window with one of her hairpins ; “he likes to sing 
with Molly.” 

Miss Prue did not answer, except by an expressive 
little grunt, and then, apparently, changed the sub- 
ject. 

“ Do you ever hear from Cousin Jane nowa- 
days (“Cousin Jane” was Mrs. Norris, Jasper’s 
mother.) 

“ I haven’t lately. She did write me a few times, 
and I answered ; but the last letter came in cold 
weather, — I should say, before February.” 


246 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ Yes. Jasper has a schooner of his own now, 
did you know it ? ” 

“ No ; has he ? That’s fine ! ” 

“Yes; Jasper always was forehanded, and he has 
laid by quite a snug little sum ; then of course his 
father helps him ; you never hear from him ? ” 

“ No ; that is, he did write a postscript in one of 
his mother’s letters.” 

“ Did you answer it ? ” 

“ Not directly. I expressed my thanks, etc., to 
Mrs. Norris when I next wrote.” 

Sara had resumed her chair and sewing; but at 
this she laid it in her lap, and looked curiously at 
her old friend, wondering what categorical fiend 
possessed her this morning. Miss Prue knitted two 
or three rounds in silence, then remarked, with 
elaborate carelessness, — 

“ You and Jasper have always been good friends } ” 
As she ended with the rising inflection, Sara 
answered, — 

“ Oh, yes, always,” and picked up her sewing. 

“ I’ve about made up my mind,” added Miss Prue, 
lowering her voice to a more confidential tone, “ to 
make Jasper my heir. His mother has been for 
years my nearest of kin, and Jasper’s a fine lad, 
honest and trustworthy. But I have some notions 
about woman’s rights in property matters ; and if I 
knew just the girl he would marry, I should leave it 
to both, share and share alike. I know whom he 
wants to marry,” she finished decisively. 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


247 


“Is it Dolly Lee ? ” asked Sara, all interest. 

“ No, it isn’t Dolly Lee,” dryly ; ^ it’s Sara 01m- 
stead.” 

The sewing dropped again. 

“ Miss Prue ! ” 

“ Well, it is, and you needn’t speak as if I’d told a 
falsehood ; for I hiow ! ” 

Sara’s cheeks had crimsoned warmly, and her 
voice faltered a little, as she asked, — 

“ Did he tell you himself } ” 

“ Not in so many words ; but I’ve known it, so has 
his mother, for a long time. He has cared for you 
ever since he was a little boy. And Sara,” earnestly, 
“ where would you find a better husband, a truer 
heart } I’m an old goose, I suppose, to speak out so 
plainly; but the fact is, Jasper’s a bit afraid of you, 
and doesn’t dare to speak, I imagine.” 

“ Afraid oi me f” 

“ Yes, he thinks you some kind of a goddess 
probably ; most men do till they are married, and 
then they’re too apt to think their wives are kitchen- 
maids; but I don’t think Jasper’ll be like that ! ” she 
added hastily. 

Sara smiled. 

“ I’ve no doubt. Miss Prue, that Jasper would be 
all that is good and noble ; ah ! there is Molly com- 
ing back ; I wonder if she succeeded in matching 
your yarn,” and rising with a relieved air, she hurried 
out to meet her sister. 

But the conversation lingered in her memory, and 


248 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


was often brought to mind by trivial events. During 
all of her visit, Miss Prue had an air of taking pos- 
session of Sara, which was, if not new, at least 
accented greatly, and occasionally would drop such 
expressions as, — 

“if you should ever live in Killamet again,” or 
“When you come back to us, Sara,” which gave the 
girl an uneasy feeling that her future was being 
settled for her, leaving no alternative. Even her 
very last day, during the packing, there was an 
instance of this. 

Sara and Molly, revelling in the midst of bags and 
boxes, while pretending to help, came upon a little 
morocco case of antique appearance. 

“ May I look at this. Miss Prue ? ” cried Molly, 
holding it up. 

“Of course, child; just hand me that bundle, 
Sara ; it’s bandages I brought along in case of acci- 
dents ; I always carry some in my hand-bag, besides 
my old Indian ointment.” 

“ Oh, how lovely ! ” exclaimed Molly, as the cover 
of the case flew back, discovering a set of coral 
ornaments of exquisite workmanship, outlined against 
the faded blue satin lining. “ Coral’s all out of style 
now, but it’s wonderfully pretty, just the same ; and 
what an odd design ; see Sara ! ” 

She held them out towards the latter, then by a 
sudden impulse took the ear-rings and placed them 
against her sister’s shell-like ears. 

“ Oh ! look Miss Prue. Aren’t they becoming ? ” 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


249 


** Exceedingly,” said that lady, looking around with 
a critical air : “ coral always becomes such a com- 
plexion and hair. Tve always intended those for 
Jasper’s wife.” 

Her accent and tone were so peculiar as she said 
this that even Molly noticed it. 

“Jap’s wife.?” she cried gayly. “There’s your 
chance, Sara. Why don’t you set your cap for him, 
and the corals .? ” 

“ Molly ! ” 

Sara drew back her head sharply, and thrust the 
jewels from her, but her face crimsoned as she did 
so ; and though Molly dared say nothing further, her 
eyes danced with teasing merriment, while Miss 
Prue, pretending not to notice at all, took in every 
detail. 

“ Either she likes him so much she can’t bear to 
have the subject made light of, or else the whole 
thing is distasteful to her ; I wish I knew which it 
is,” was her thought as she bustled about, apparently 
intent only on getting as many garments as possible 
into a given space. 

She ruminated all the way home next day, making 
up her mind that she would not be quite happy now 
until this affair was arranged, and resolved that if 
Jasper happened to be at home when she reached 
there, she would have a word to say to him. 

Meanwhile, Sara’s tranquillity, having been invaded 
by this new idea, was effectually destroyed. It had 
been her life-long habit to reverence and obey Miss 


250 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Prue ; if she went against her in this matter it would 
be an unprecedented event. Then she could not but 
realize what a fine match it would be in a worldly 
point of view, allyihg her with those families she 
had, all her life, been taught to consider as first in 
her little world. It would give her dear ones cer- 
tain comfort and herself rest from care and anxiety ; 
she knew well what a warm nest Jasper’s wife would 
step into, admired, petted, and cousined by relatives 
innumerable. Last of all, it would ally her to a 
young man she had always liked, and could thoroughly 
respect as well ; one too, who would, she felt certain, 
be a tender, loyal mate. What was there against it ? 
Why — as Molly would say — didn’t she “jump at 
the chance ” ? 

She felt really indignant at herself for her own 
perverseness ; but, though she would not tell herself 
the reason why, she felt this thing to be impossible. 

Better struggle along under her burdens as she 
had been doing, rather than go so reluctantly to that 
true and tender heart. 

“ Oh, I wish she had not spoken ! ” she whispered 
to herself passionately one day as these thoughts 
kept tormenting her. “ I never knew Miss Prue to 
do so unkind a thing before ! But why do I think 
about it } It’s time enough to worry when Jasper 
speaks. Perhaps she’s mistaken after all ! ” and she 
tried to content herself in this belief. 

When a letter- came from her old friend, giving a 
lively description of her journey home, and of a dis- 


A VISIT FROM MISS PRUE. 


251 


graceful squabble between Polly and a tiny pug, in 
which the former blasphemed, and the latter barked 
bravely from the arms of his mistress, until the 
wrathful conductor bundled both off into the bag- 
gage-car, but saying nothing of Jasper, except a 
casual remark that his schooner was expected in soon, 
she felt relieved. 

“ I have been making too much of nothing ! ” she 
said, and blushed all to herself at the thought that 
her vanity alone had caused her all these pangs. 


252 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

BERTHA GILLETTE. 

There was a great deal of sickness that summer 
in Dartmoor, and much suffering among the poor. 
Sara, having little or no money to spare, felt she 
could only give herself, and thus set apart her Satur- 
day afternoons (upon which she was now free from 
museum work) to visit the sick whenever she was 
needed, the circle to which she belonged having syste- 
matized this charity that it might not fall too heavily 
upon any one. 

Molly sometimes went with her, and the two bright 
faces brought comfort to many forlorn hearts. 

It was an intensely warm day, the first week in 
July, when a card bearing the silver cross reached 
her. 


“ Bad case in third ward. A young girl in the Trask tenement- 
house, cor. G and Tenth streets. Can you go ? Get whatever you 
need at Reed’s, and ask for Bertha Gillette, third floor.” 

She turned to Molly. 

“ Is it to-day you have an engagement with the 
dressmaker ? ” 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


253 


Yes, at three ; why ” 

Sara read the card, adding, — 

“ I suppose I’ll have to go alone, then. If I should 
be kept till dark, be sure and have Morton come after 
me.” 

“ What makes you go, Sara > It’s fairly scorching 
outside ! ” 

I know, but I must, you see. ‘A young girl.’ 
Poor thing ! She may have no friends, and be suf- 
fering for care. Yes, I must go. I’ll wear my thin- 
nest muslin, and take the large umbrella.” 

She was soon off, stepping briskly in spite of the 
heat. The air was scintillating under the almost 
vertical rays of the sun, whose intensity was merci- 
less, and scarcely a leaf stirred ; even the birds were 
drowsy, and kept in shelter, while every house was 
closed and barricaded against the heat as against an 
invading army. 

For a time Sara had the shade of the great trees 
lining the sidewalks for protection ; but as she left 
these wide avenues for the alleys of poverty, there 
was nothing but her umbrella between her and the 
scorching luminary, while mingled with the intensi- 
fied heat were the dust and odors arising from ^ 
unsprinkled and garbage-strewn streets. 

She felt faint before she reached the tenement- 
house, and only the consciousness that she must not 
give way to illness in this neighborhood gave her 
strength to proceed. 

Once inside, she dropped down on the lowest step 


254 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


of the stairway, regardless of dust, until she had 
recovered somewhat, then wearily climbed the steps. 
Half-way up she met a rough-looking man, who 
scowled at her, but said nothing ; and she hurried by 
him, glad to see he kept on his way without looking 
back. 

Reaching the third floor finally, she saw a rather 
pretty little girl standing in one of the many open 
doors, and asked which led to Miss Bertha Gillette’s 
room. 

“ She ain’t got no room,” said the child shrilly ; 
“she’s in old Mis’ Pierce’s room, down thar,” point- 
ing to a closed door ; “ that’s whar they took her 
when they brung her in. There wan’t no room any- 
wheres else.” 

“ Oh ! Was she taken ill on the street ? ” 

The child nodded. 

“Got a sunstroke, I guess,” and Sara hurried on to 
the designated door. 

She knocked lightly, then opened it and entered. 
It was a bare little room, with one window, but 
decently clean, and the sash was entirely removed, 
being replaced by a mosquito-netting tacked to the 
frame, so the air was not foul. On the old bed in 
the corner lay the young girl, white and still, and 
beside her sat an elderly woman with a kind, weath- 
er-beaten visage, who looked up inquiringly. 

“ I am Sara Olmstead, a King’s daughter,” touch- 
ing the cross on her breast ; “ can I do anything for 
you ? ” 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


255 


“ Tm glad you’ve come,” said the woman ; “ IVe 
did what I could, but Tve got to go to my work now. 
I’m meat cook in a restaurant, and I must git there 
by four ; it’s ’most that now ; can you stay } ” 

“ Yes,” said Sara. “Please tell me alj about her, 
the symptoms, and so on. Was it a sunstroke .? ” 
“Might be — set down. Miss, you look tuckered 
out yourself,” handing the one splint-bottomed rock- 
er. “ I don’t know much more’n you. They picked 
her up down on the corner this morning and brought 
her into the hall, — thought ’twas a fit, I guess. I 
come in while they was all tearin’ around like a pas- 
sel of geese, and when they didn’t seem any place 
for her lower down, told ’em they might bring her to 
my room. I’m about the only one that rooms alone, 
I guess.” 

“ And hasn’t she spoken at all ? ” 

“ Yes, she come to and told us her name, but that’s 
about all. She grew flighty pretty soon ; and now 
she either lies still and breathes hard, like you see 
her now, or mutters suthin’, I can’t make out what. 
If you need any help. Mis’ Maloney’s a good, kind 
woman, three doors to the left ; she’ll come in a 
minute, ’less the old man’s drunk and she has to stay 
to watch the children ; and here’s her medicines. I 
got the health doctor right away. Dr. Browne. Was 
it him sent you ? ” 

“ I presume he reported the case to our circle, and 
they sent me word. You said a spoonful every half 
hour ? ” 


256 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Yes ; and if she gets so’t she really senses things, 
she might want suthin’ to eat. You’ll find tea and 
bread in this cupboard, see } and I bile the water on 
this oil stove.” 

Sarah nodded' wearily ; she was feeling a strange 
lassitude from which it was difficult to rouse herself. 
The woman noticed her pallor. 

“ You don’t look strong yourself. Miss, and I hate 
to leave you, but I guess there won’t be much to do. 
If we don’t have a big run at the restaurant, — and 
we won’t, it’s so hot — I’ll git back by seven sure ; 
and don’t mind calling on Mis’ Maloney, she’s as 
clever as the day is long- Well, good-by to you,” 
and she was gone. 

Sarah looked about her with some curiosity, noting 
the bare edges of the floor around the faded strip of 
cheap carpeting in the centre, the little stand with a 
white towel over the top, upon which was a lamp and 
a Bible, — she was glad to see the Bible — the wood- 
cuts from illustrated journals tacked to the walls, and 
the one straggling geranium in a tin can on the win- 
dow sill, then examined more closely the girl on the 
bed. 

She was extremely pale, and there were blue 
shadows about her nose and temples ; but the brows 
were delicately pencilled, the lashes lying against the 
colorless cheek, thick and long, while the hair, of a 
brown so light as to be almost yellow, curled naturally 
around her forehead. 

“ She is really pretty,” thought Sara, “ but how 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


257 


thin and blue. And what mere claws her hands 
are ! ” looking at the one clutching a corner of the 
sheet. “ Poor girl ! I don’t believe she is much 
older than I, but she looks as if she had suffered 
enough for an old woman. Ah ! she’s speaking.” 

The lips were moving, but at first no sound came 
from them ; then she caught one word, “ mother,” 
and then a tear rolled from the closed eyes over the 
white cheeks. 

Sara gently wiped it away, thinking pitifully, 
“ Where can her mother be ? ” and while the thought 
was impressed upon her face in a look of tenderness 
and pity, the eyes of the young girl opened wide and 
gazed into her own. 

“Who are — you ^ ” she asked faintly. “An angel } ” 

Sara smiled. 

“No, only a girl like yourself.” 

“ Then I am — not dead ? ” 

“ No, indeed : you have been ill, but are better now. 
Here is something for you to take,” placing a 
spoon to her lips. 

The invalid swallowed the liquid docilely, never 
taking her large hazel eyes from Sara’s face. 

“ Who are you ? Where am I ? ” she asked again. 

“ I am Sara Olmstead, a King’s daughter, come to 
stay with you this afternoon ; and you are in a good 
woman’s room, who is now gone to her work.” 

The eyes closed again, and an expression of pain 
or regret passed over the face. 

“ Do you suffer ? ” asked Sara gently. 


258 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


The head was shaken slightly. 

Not in body, but I’m almost sorry it wasn’t true.’* 

“What, Bertha.?” 

“ My first thought, that it was all over, and you 
were the angel appointed to waken me in the other 
world.” 

The tone, weak almost to whispering, was infinitely 
sad, and Sarah thrilled with sympathy. That one so 
young should long for death seemed incredible to her 
hardy nature. But nothing more was said till, be- 
thinking herself, Sara asked, — 

“ Could you eat anything now .? ” 

The eyes opened quickly. 

“Yes,” she said eagerly, “yes.” 

Sara hurried to light the little stove and make the 
tea, managing also to brown a slice of bread over 
the flame. She looked for milk and butter, but found 
none. 

“There is only sugar for your tea,” she began. 

“Never mind,” said the eager voice again, “ let me 
have it. Oh, how good it smells ! ” 

Sara brought the plain little repast to the bedside, 
and, rising to her elbow, the young girl partook with 
an eagerness that was pitiful. 

“ Poor thing ! ” thought Sara, “ I do believe she 
was starved ! ” then aloud, “ If you can hold the cup. 
I’ll make you some more toast ; shall I .? ” 

“ Yes, please ! ” in a stronger voice, “ I never tasted 
anything so good ! ” 

While she was eating the second piece, Sara took 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


259 


a pencil and small notebook from her satin bag and 
scribbling a line, stepped hastily down the hall to the 
third door. It was opened by the same little girl 
who had first directed her. 

Is this Mrs. Maloney’s room ?” asked Sara. 

“Yes’m.” 

And you are her little girl ^ ” 

Yes’m.” 

Could I get you to do an errand for me } ” 

“Mebbe.” 

It’s to take this paper to Reed’s store on G Street, 
and bring home the things the clerk will give you. 
If you will I’ll give you an orange when you come 
back.” 

The child’s eyes brightened. 

I’ll go,’" she said. “ Ma’s down-stairs, and I’m 
minding the baby, but I’ll call her.” 

“Thank you,” said Sara, and ran back to her 
charge. 

She was glad to see that the pale face on the pillow 
did not look so deathly now, and the blue shadows 
had nearly disappeared. She even smiled with some 
brightness, and her grateful eyes followed Sara about 
the room. A breeze had arisen, and was blowing re- 
freshingly through the window, and the latter gladly 
seated herself where she could catch it all. 

“ You look better,” she remarked, as she returned 
the sick girl’s smile; “tell me, Bertha, was it from 
hunger that you fainted ? I am your friend and want 
to help you.” 


26o SARA, A PRINCESS. 

“Yes, it was. I haven’t eaten since — what day is 
this ” 

' “ Saturday ; it is now about five o’clock.” 

“ Then it was yesterday morning. I had a piece 
of bread about as large as my palm.” 

“ And nothing since } ” 

“ Not a crumb.” 

Sara shuddered. 

“ Poor, poor girl ! How did you come to such 
want ? ” tears of pity filling her sweet eyes. 

Bertha gazed at her wonderingly. 

“How did you know me.^” she asked. “What 
makes you care ? ” 

“ I know your name because you gave it when you 
first came out of your faint, and how could I help 
caring ? You are pretty near my own age, I think.” 

“ I’m twenty-two.” 

“ Then you are a little the older. Bertha, have you 
a mother 

She shook her head sadly. 

“No, I haven’t anybody ; it would have been better, 
I say. What can a girl do all alone in this great, 
wicked world 

“ Tell me about it, Bertha ; perhaps I can help you.” 

No one could resist that tone ; and Bertha, after one 
long look into the sympathetic face, drew a sigh and 
began. 

“We were always poor, but not to real want. 
Father had a small farm, and we lived off from it till 
he died. Then it all went for debts and funeral ex- 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


261 


penses, and we took what little was left, mother and 
I, and came here. We managed to live while she 
was alive. She took in sewing, and I worked in Ball’s 
factory, and we were as cosey as could be in our one 
room ; but last winter she died.” 

Her eyes filled with tears, and she stopped a mo- 
ment, then went on. 

“The factory turned off a third of its hands in 
May, and I with them. I’ve tried everything since, 
but I’m not strong enough for many kinds of work. 
If I could only stand housework I could find plenty 
to do, but the heavy part is too much for me ; twice 
I’ve broken down, lost my place, and had to use all 
the wages I’d saved up for doctor’s bills. A second 
girl’s work I could do, but it’s difficult to get into 
those aristocratic houses, unless you have friends and 
recommends, especially in summer, when so many are 
closed while the families are away. 

“ I’ve done shop-work, and indeed a little of every- 
thing ; but for a week I haven’t had a thing, and I was 
reduced to my last crumb. I knew, if I couldn’t pay 
for my room to-night. I’d be turned into the street, so 
for two days I’ve walked and walked, hunting for 
work, till I actually dropped, as you see. There’s one 
thing, though,” with sudden fire, “ I’ve kept straight ! 
If I had been really dead, as I for a moment thought, 
I would not have been afraid to meet my mother. 
But it’s been a hard struggle ! Do you wonder I was 
sorry when I found you weren’t a real angel, and 
heaven was still far away } ” 


262 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Sara, her eyes filled with tears, was about to answer, 
when Nora Maloney appeared at the door with her 
bundles. 

I’ve got ’em, mum ! ” she cried, and at sight of 
her bright face both girls smiled again. 

“That’s my good girl ! ” was Sara’s approving com- 
ment ; “and here, didn’t I promise you something.^” 

“ Yes’m,” her eyes snapping, “an orange.” 

Sara opened a package, and took out two. 

“ What will you do with this, if I’ll give it to you ? ” 
pointing to the extra one. 

“I’ll hide ’em both till pa gets away, an’ then I’ll 
divvy up with Nan and Jack, and Ma and baby,” was 
the ready answer. 

Sara handed over the two yellow globes. 

“ That’s right ! I’m glad you’re such a generous 
little girl, and I am much obliged to you for doing 
the errand. Good-by.” 

“ Good-by’m ; thankee mum ! ” was Nora’s hearty 
answer, as she hurried home to show her treasures, 
before it should be necessary to hide them from the 
father whom drink had transformed into a brute ; to 
be avoided if possible, and if not, to be fed and 
cajoled, then, if still implacable, fled from in terror, 
as from any other ferocious, untamable beast. 

Sara took from the bundles oranges, grapes, bis- 
cuit, and sliced ham, the sick girl watching her, 
meanwhile, with eyes that grew brighter every 
moment. 

“ Now we’ll have supper together,” said Sara, ar- 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


263 


ranging them neatly on the little stand ; “ for I’m 
getting hungry too, and while we’re eating, we’ll 
talk things over. That tea and toast will do for first 
course, try this bunch of grapes and the sandwich I 
am fixing for the second.” 

Bertha took them with a delighted air. 

“ Oh, how good ! We used to have grapes at 
home ; and father always cured his own hams. I was 
never really hungry in my life till nowadays. We’ve 
always been poor, and sometimes I didn’t have any 
best dress, but there was never any lack of food. Do 
you know ” — solemnly — “ it’s an awful thing 
to get so hungry ? I could have stolen — murdered 
almost — for food, only I didn’t dare touch any- 
thing for fear of jail. . All my idea^ of right and 
wrong were confused, and for the time I was more of 
a wild beast than any thing else — oh, it was dread- 
ful ! ” 

Sara gently touched the thin hand. 

“Poor girl!” she murmured, “I know something 
of it too ! ” then aloud, “ Bertha, how would the place 
of a companion suit you ? ” 

“A companion ? ” 

“ Yes, to an invalid lady. I know of a Mrs. Searle 
who needs one. She is rich, and ought to pay well ; 
but she would want somebody who could read intelli- 
gibly — and I suspect it would require infinite pa- 
tience to put up with her whims.” 

“ I haven’t a bad temper,” said Bertha simply ; “and 
I used to read aloud to mother while she was sew- 


264 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


ing — we both of us liked books. How I wish she 
would try me ! ” 

“Perhaps she will ; at any rate, you shall be looked 
after in some way. I am poor, myself, but I’m sure 
our circle will see that you find work. Do you know 
what the ‘King’s Daughters’ are.^” 

“ I’ve heard of them, but youVe the first I ever 
met. If they’re all like you, the Lord must be proud 
to own them.” 

The sincere, almost childish, tone in which these 
words were said divested them of any irreverence. 
Sara merely smiled, as she told Bertha some of their 
aims and practices ; and when Mrs. Pierce returned, 
she was astonished to see her patient sitting up in 
bed, with alm*ost a flush on her cheeks, and a glad 
light in her eyes. 

“ Lawful suz ! ” she cried in the doorway, “ what 
have you done to her } ” 

“Fed her,” laughed Sara; “and I have been help- 
ing her to take my prescriptions, you see. Won’t 
you join us .^” 

“ Well, I’m beat ! Thank you — guess I will. 
Was that all’t added her — jest hunger .<*” 

“That’s all,” answered Bertha for herself, “and 
quite enough too ! ” 

Then she repeated something of her story, thank- 
ing the good woman heartily for her kindness. It 
was decided she should stay till Monday with Mrs. 
Pierce, who seemed anxious to befriend the girl, 
though so poor herself ; and Sara finally left them, 


BERTHA GILLETTE. 


265 


Still planning most amicably, in order to reach home 
before darkness should necessitate Morton’s coming 
after her. 

How much cooler it seems ! ” she thought, as she 
stepped into the street, glancing up at the sky, which 
was partially overcast with purplish-black clouds ; “ I 
wish, now, I had brought a wrap.” 

She hurried on ; but the storm moved more rapidly 
than she, and just as she turned into the avenue she 
felt the splash of a large raindrop in her face. She 
attempted to raise her umbrella, but a sudden squall 
of wind nearly wrenched it from her grasp, and, be- 
coming convinced it would be impossible to hold it 
against the now shrieking blast, she made no more 
effort to raise it, but ran on — the rain falling more 
heavily every moment. 

By the time she sprang up the steps into the shel- 
ter of the veranda, she was thoroughly drenched. 
Morton met her there, just about to go in search of 
her, with a waterproof and overshoes, and cried, — 

“ Why, Sara, how wet you are ! ” 

Yes,” she shivered, “I’m drenched,” and hurried 
on and up to her room without more words. 

By the time she was disrobed, however, that same 
sensation, as of utter weariness, came over her, and 
she concluded to retire for the night, telling Molly — 
who soon came up — that she was tired and thought 
she had better get some rest. 

“ I’ve been to supper,” she added ; “ and Molly, tell 
Morton when he goes to the store, to-night, that I’d 


266 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


like him to do an errand at Mrs. Searle’s for me, on 
the way. Just hand me a sheet of paper and a pen, 
dear.” 

“ Won’t it do in the morning, Sara.^ You look so 
tired!” 

“ No, to-morrow’s Sunday, you know, and this is 
something that must be attended to before anything 
happens.” 

She took the writing materials from Molly, and 
wrote the explanation and request in regard to Ber- 
tha, then folding it with a listless gesture, handed it 
to her sister. 

‘‘Don’t let him forget — it’s important,” she said 
wearily. “Molly, I’m so cold, can’t I have another 
blanket ? ” 

Molly brought it and ran down with the note. 

“ Don’t stay late, Morton,” she urged in a worried 
tone ; “ if Sara ever was sick, I should say she was 
going to be now.” 


WEAKNESS. 


267 


CHAPTER XX. 

WEAKNESS. 

Molly was confirmed in her surmise ; for in an 
hour Sara was in a burning fever, and there was little 
sleep in the house that night. To have Sara ill was 
unprecedented — almost unbearable — and the whole 
household was visibly affected by it. Morton’s face 
settled into a gravity which nothing could move, and 
Molly's dimpled visage had never looked so long and 
care-full. 

Hetty bustled up and down, important and anxious, 
while Sam stood about in the hall, and asked 
everybody who passed along “ how she wor a-doin' 
now.” 

The doctor came, looked wise, talked about mala- 
ria, exposure to the heat and over-fatigue, left some 
pills and powders, and went away again — after 
which the house settled down to that alert silence, so 
different from the restful quiet of an ordinary night. 
Sara, tossing to and fro in the fiery grasp of fever, 
moaned and talked, Hetty and Molly watching alter- 
nately beside her, while Morton tried to sleep in the 
next room, only to start from frightful dreams to the 


268 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


more harrowing reality that his beloved sister was 
actually and painfully ill. 

It was a sharp illness, but not of long duration. 
The fever was broken up on the fourteenth day, but 
it left a very weak and ghostly Sara to struggle back 
to health once more. Still, there were no relapses, 
thanks to good care, for Hetty had been faithfulness 
itself, while Molly had settled down to her new duties 
with a steadiness no one would have expected. As 
for Morton, he would have brought up half the drug- 
store, if he had been permitted, and was made per- 
fectly content whenever allowed to share the night- 
watches, which was seldom, as he had to work all 
day. In these Hetty was soon relieved by those 
members of the circle who had become personal 
friends of the girls ; and as there was little to do, ex- 
cept give the medicines regularly, they thus managed 
well without calling in a regular nurse. 

Three weeks from the day of her seizure Sara be- 
gan to sit up in bed, looking once more something 
like the girl of old, though she still talked (to quote 
Molly) as if she had hot pebbles in her mouth, and 
the veins on her temples were much too clearly de- 
fined beneath the white skin. 

Thus sitting, one delightful day, she read a note 
from Bertha, which had been awaiting her some time. 
It was a rapturous expression of thanks for the good 
place she had found with Mrs. Searle, and begged 
that she might see her as soon as Sara was able. 
Molly said, as she handed it, “ She has been here two 


WEAKNESS. 


269 


or three times, begging to do anything for you that 
was needed, and I promised you should see her just as 
soon as possible.” 

So, a day or two later, Bertha came. Sara would 
hardly have known her, and indeed the two seemed 
to have changed places, — Sara was the weakling 
now, Bertha the strong and rosy one. 

“ I have such a good place,” she said, in answer to 
the former’s questions ; ‘^Mrs. Searle is very kind to 
me. Of course she is exacting and fretful at times, 
but that is only because of her illness, and I can get 
along with it ; but she has given me a pretty room, 
and allows me an hour or two for air and exercise 
every day. I am happier there than I have been 
since mother died.” 

“ That is good ! ” said Sara. 

“ And only think,” continued the pleased girl, ** she 
is talking now of going to the seashore. You don’t 
know how I long for a sight of the ocean ! The only ' 
trouble is, she can’t find a place quiet enough to suit 
her — she hates to go to a great hotel, or where there 
is a crowd.” 

Sara looked up with a sudden thought. 

“ Killamet would be quiet enough — how nice it 
would be if she’d take my house there ! ” 

Your house ! Have you a house ? ” 

**Yes, the children and I ; it’s not much of one — 
just a cottage, but perfectly comfortable in summer. 
If Mrs. Searle would send down some furniture, I 
think she could really make it cosey.” 


270 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


“ I’ll tell her about it,” said Bertha, and did, with 
the result that the lady decided to take it for the next 
two months, at a fair rental. 

This little excitement over, Sara had only herself 
and the children to think of, and in her weak physi- 
cal condition these thoughts were far from pleasant. 

What was to prevent Bertha’s experience from be- 
coming her own, or possibly Molly’s, in case of evil 
fortune ? If she should often be ill, who would care 
for them } She seemed to herself, just then, such a 
frail plank between them and want ! She raised her 
white, blue-veined hands and looked at them ; they 
did not seem made for struggling, and a sense of 
powerlessness, born of bodily weakness, enwrapped 
her in its hopeless gloom. 

There is a certain period, after convalescence is 
well progressed, that is even more trying to many 
natures than actual illness — that time when we are 
supposed to be well, and yet have not quite resumed 
our wonted strength. 

How the long-dropped burdens of our lives loom 
up before us now! Is it possible we ever bent our 
backs to such a load ? Can we ever do it again ? 
Yet, even as we hesitate, relentless necessity pushes 
us on, and bids us hoist the burden. 

Sara felt this often now, and all her former bra- 
very seemed gone with her strength. She had already 
decided that, next Monday, she must return to the 
museum, and bring up her neglected work ; then 
there was a half-written article to be finished and 


WEAKNESS. 


271 


copied, whose motive and central thought she had al- 
most forgotten, while at her side loomed a basketful 
of stockings to be darned, and garments to be mended 
before the Sabbath dawn. 

In this reluctant mood, trying to rally her forces 
for renewed conflict with life’s hard duties, she 
could not help thinking how different it might all be 
— how she might be cared for, instead of looking 
out for others ; how she might be the centre of a 
home, enclosed and guarded, rather than, as now, 
trying vainly to encompass one, making a wall of her 
feeble self to shelter others — and hot tears of rebel- 
lious weakness filled her eyes, and dropped slowly 
upon the trembling little hands, which were painfully 
weaving the threads to and fro through a preposter- 
ous hole in one of Morton’s socks. 

A step in the hall made her hasten to dash away 
the tell-tale drops, as Hetty knocked, before peeping 
in to say, — • 

‘‘There’s a gentleman in the parlor asking to see 
you. Miss Olmstead.” 

“ A gentleman } One of the professors ” 

“ I don’t think it is ; I never see him before — it’s 
a young man.” 

Sara rose, adjusted her dress a little, and de- 
scended to the drawing-room. In its close-shuttered 
condition she did not at first recognize the figure 
which rose to meet her, but a second look wrung 
from her almost a cry. 

“Jasper.^” 


2/2 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


'‘Yes, Sairay, it’s me. You — you’ve been sick, I 
hear.” 

She bowed her head, unable to speak for the 
second. 

“ And you show it too,” with an awed look into 
her lovely face, spiritualized by illness, as he took her 
extended hand. 

“Yes,” recovering herself, “but I’m nearly well 
now — how are they all in Killamet ? ” 

“ Oh, so-so, I guess ; but I haven’t been home 
to stay any since last month — soon after Cousin Prue 
was here, it was. I had business in Norcross yester- 
day, and I come over from there by train. Mother 
wrote about your having the fever.” 

She had motioned him to a chair, and dropped 
into another herself, feeling weak in body, and per- 
plexed in mind. Why had he come } Was /le the 
answer to her repining thoughts } His voice roused 
her from the sort of lethargic state into which she 
had dropped for a moment. 

“ Sairay,” he said, with a little choke, “I — I 
couldn’t stay away any longer — when I heard about 
you — and I’ve come ” — 

He stopped again, but she did not help him out — 
she could not. With her fingers locked together in 
her lap, she waited for what was coming, with the 
feeling that she was drifting down stream, and had 
neither the strength, nor inclination, to arrest her 
swift descent. He drew a sigh that was almost a 
gasp, and plunged on, — 


WEAKNESS. 


273 


“ Sairay, it’s too hard for you — all — all this — and 
I — Oh ! you know how I love you — I’ve always 
loved you, and what is the use in your working so 
when I’d give my very eyes to take care of you ? 
Don’t speak, Sairay,” raising his hand in protest, 
“ I’ve got a-going, now, and I want to say it all. 
I know I’m not good enough for you — who is ? 

— but if love that never tires, and kindness, and 

— and — being as true as steel, and as tender as a 
mother, can count for anything, they’ll plead for me, 
Sairay ; I’m not much on fine speech-making, as you 
know.” 

He had risen, and stood before her, tall and stal- 
wart, and, for the moment, such strength and tender- 
ness seemed good to her — why not accept them, and 
be at rest ? Perhaps he felt her yielding mood ; at 
any rate, he held out both hands with an assured 
gesture. 

“ Say yes, Sairay — tell me you ” — 

There was a jarring slam and a flood of light ; one 
of the shutters had blown open. Both started, 
glanced around, then faced each other again ; but 
that noisy interruption had thoroughly aroused Sara. 
She looked at Jasper in this brighter light, and a 
quick revulsion of feeling swept over her. What was 
she doing ? Would she lie to him ? 

She did not love him ; did she dare to tell him that 
she did ? A thought of another manly figure, bear- 
ing a certain refinement, and nobility lacking in this, 
rose before her mind’s eye, and when Jasper finished 


. 2/4 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


his sentence — “tell me you love me ! ” her answer 
was ready. 

“ I can’t, Jasper,” she said low, but firmly, “ It 
wouldn’t be ” — 

He stopped her again. 

“ Don’t answer me now ; take time to think — take 
till to-morrow. This is too sudden; nobody can 
know their minds all in a minute. I’ll come again 
when you’ve had time to think.” 

She shook her head. 

“No, Jasper, that is not necessary. You have 
always been one of my best friends — be so still! 
But — that is all. I can’t give you what you ask for, 
and time will never change me — don’t think it. The 
best way is to have perfect truth between us. Now, 
Jasper,” trying to speak easily, “ put this aside, and 
stay with us this evening. I want you to see Mor- 
ton and ” — 

“ I can’t,” said Jasper, in a voice of intense calm- 
ness (she could imagine him giving an order in just 
that tone, when life or death hung on the proper ex- 
ecution of it), “I — must go. You — you’re sure you 
know your mind.^ ” 

“ Yes, sure.” 

He picked up his hat, — she noticed it was a silk 
tile, and thought vaguely how incongruous it looked 
upon him, though she was used to little else among 
the students, — and jammed it absently down on his 
head, as he was accustomed to fasten on his tarpau- 
lin during a storm. 


WEAKNESS. 275 

“ Good-by” he said hoarsely, turning towards the 
the door. 

She stepped towards him. 

'‘Jasper, wait ! ” 

He obeyed — but reluctantly. • 

“ I beg of you, don’t let this make you feel hard 
towards us all. I have depended on your goodness 
all my life — don’t let it fail me now ! ” 

She held out her hand with that look which few 
could resist, a look of winning trustfulness words 
cannot describe. Jasper hesitated, turned, looked 
into her face — and yielded. 

“Sairay,” he said, grasping her hand closely, “it’s 
no use ; you always did have your way, and you al- 
ways will ! I’ll be anything to you that you want 
me to be, but — it’s bitter hard luck ! ” and, wringing 
her hand till it ached, he left her. 


276 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE PRINCE COMETH. 

“ A LETTER from Mrs. Macon, I think,” said Mor- 
ton, handing it across the table to Sara, with a 
glance at the western postmark. 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if it is to announce their 
return,” she remarked, opening it. 

“ Heaven forbid ! ” groaned Molly. “ I love the 
Macons, but I adore their home ! Why don’t you 
praise these muffins, Morton } I made ’em.” 

“Is that what ails them ? ” making a wry face. 
“ Give me another at once. We must make way 
with them as fast as possible ! ” and Molly passed 
him the plate, with a well-pleased laugh. 

“Yes,” interrupted Sara, looking up, “they will 
be at home inside of a fortnight, but she kindly 
says, — 

“ ‘ Don’t hurry to find rooms. I want to help 
you decide, and I shall be so glad to come home to a 
houseful of young people rather than to the usual 
gloom and stuffiness of long-closed rooms ; besides, 
I have a proposition to make you.’ ” 

“ What can it be ” cried Molly. “ She may want 
me to stay, in place of Hetty, for cook.” 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 


277 

“ And me for coachman,” added Morton, buttering 
his third muffin. 

“ Then, Sara, there is nothing left for you but to 
be lady’s maid ! ” giggled the other twin. 

“ I should rather like the position,” smiled Sara, 
“ to read aloud to her, answer her notes, do her 
errands, and ” — 

“ Button her boots ! ” put in atrocious Molly again, 
at which Morton slapped at her with his napkin, 
when she fled — pursued by him — to the veranda, 
where decency demanded a cessation of hostilities. 

Sara soon joined them, and a little later, Preston 
Garth, — who was back in town for a day or so, to 
assist in setting up some new apparatus lately ar- 
rived at the laboratory, — strolled up the walk. 

You’re too late ! ” exclaimed Molly saucily, as he 
dropped upon the upper step, and began fanning him- 
self vigorously with his hat ; “ Morton’s eaten up all 
the muffins, and I think Sara finished the peaches.” 

“And I suppose, as usual. Miss Molly had noth- 
ing,” was the ironic reply. 

“Oh, a trifle — not worth mentioning ” — 

“ Yes, Molly has a starved appearance, as you may 
have observed,” put in Sara. “ But, Mr. Garth, in 
spite of her discouraging remarks, I think we could 
find ” — 

“Oh, thank you. Miss Olmstead — I have been to 
tea ; just left the table, in fact, and am on my way 
back, to the museum, so dropped in here. Has any- 
body noticed the sunset to-night } ” 


278 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


All turned to observe it (the house fronted towards 
the south), and simultaneously exclaimed at its grand- 
eur. The sun was just dropping behind a thunder- 
ous bank of clouds, closely resembling a range of 
mountains capped with snow, now tinged ruddily 
with the dying light, and between these crowding 
peaks was an arched opening, as if a vaulted passage- 
way had been blasted through the mass of rock, giv- 
ing a vista of pale blue sky, from which radiated 
prismic bars of light, while way above the topmost 
peak, like some beacon-light suspended high, swung 
the new moon, a slender crescent, also near its setting. 

“ Oh, I saw it over my right shoulder ! ” cried 
Molly gayly. “ Don’t you long to hear what wish I 
made.?” 

“ Not half so much as you long to tell it,” replied 
Morton cruelly. 

“ How snubbed I feel ! ” she sniffed, amid the 
laughter, making a face at him. “ But if you knew 
it included you — Mr. Garth, do you believe in 
omens .? ” 

“Really, Miss Molly, I never thought — in fact, I 
don’t know of any, do I .? What omens .? ” 

“ Oh, that you’re going to quarrel, if you spill the 
salt, and that it’s bad luck to step over a crack in 
the floor, and you musn’t begin things on Friday, 
and ” — 

“ Molly, what nonsense ! I thought we agreed to 
forget all that kind of thing when the mirror broke,” 
said Morton. 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 


279 


“ Yes ; when instead of bringing us misfortune it 
brought us comfort. Did we ever tell you about 
that. Mr. Garth } asked Sara ; then, as he gave a 
negative sign, she repeated the story. 

He listened interestedly. 

“ Where did you live, then, Miss Olmstead ^ ” 

“In Killamet — a tiny fishing-village on the coast. 
We are the children of a fisherman, perhaps you 
know.” 

“You.?” surprisedly. “I would never have 
thought it ! I supposed ” — He stopped in some 
confusion, and colored. 

“ Say it out ! ” urged Morton. 

“ Yes, relieve your mind,” added Molly ; “ it won’t 
stand too much pressure.” 

“Molly, be quiet !” interposed Sara peremptorily. 

“ Well,” said the young man at this, giving Molly 
a queer glance, “ I had always supposed fishermen to 
be a rude sort of people — entirely unlike you all, of 
course.” 

“‘With the exception of one,’ you would say, if 
you dared,” added Molly instantly. “ But you 
needn’t blame any of my ancestors for my tongue — 
Sara will tell you our mother was a real lady, in 
speech and manners, and our father one of Nature’s 
noblemen — I was probably changed in the cradle by 
some wicked fairy.” 

“ Let us thank the creature for leaving such a 
unique specimen, at least,” laughed Mr. Garth, com- 
pletely mollified ; (if you will not accuse us of an 


28 o 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


insane desire to make a pun). “Come, fairy change- 
ling, and let’s have a song together.” 

“ Yes, if you won’t insist upon classical music more 
than half the time. Do you know what I’d like to 
sing to-night ? ” rising to go indoors ; “ one of those 
rollicking, rioting old sailor-songs, with no tune, and 
not many more words, but with a catchiness in the two 
or three bars that gives you the sensation of a ship 
rolling and pitching under your feet — but Sara won’t 
let me, so ” — laughing mischievously — “ I suppose 
I’ll have to come down to Bach and Wagner ! ” 

Sara left alone outside, for Morton now departed 
for the store, seated herself in one of the piazza-chairs 
to listen at her leisure. The twilight was deepen- 
ing into the warm, scented dusk of a mid-summer eve, 
with nameless soft noises amid the dew and the per- 
fume, as countless tiny creatures settled themselves 
to repose or came out for their nightly dance be- 
neath the stars. 

The tender influences of night and silence in- 
wrapped the girl as if in motherly arms, and she felt 
glad, and hushed, and still. What was the little 
struggle of a day when all this great, yet minute 
world lived, slept, woke and worked, subject to one 
Will — a Will mighty enough to control the universe, 
precise enough to make perfect and beautiful the down 
upon the wing of an insect invisible except under a 
powerful microscope ? Why should she fret, or worry, 
or dread ? 

“ I have but one care,” she said, “ to do right — 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 


281 


to abide by my inner heaven-given instinct, which we 
call conscience, the rest is of the Will.” 

She leaned her head back restfully against the 
small down pillow tied by gay ribbons to her chair ; 
but her resting soul leaned against an Arm, — mighty 
to save, and tender to feel. Amid all her musings 
ran the sweet strains of the old English ballad the 
others were singing inside, whose refrain only was 
clear to her, — 


“Trust me. Love, only Trust!” 

A figure moving with a springing motion came 
swiftly up the gravelled walk and mounted the steps. 
Not till then did Sara notice it. She turned, rose, 
and stepped forward ; and as the figure advanced to 
meet her, it stood full in the light streaming through 
the drawing-room windows. 

Robert ? ” she questioned, still in a dream, and 
not realizing that she had used a name only whis- 
pered in her own heart till now. 

“ Yes, Sara,” was the reply, “ I have come — were 
you waiting for me ? ” 

Still only half herself, so sudden and surprising 
was all this, she answered in his own tone, quiet, but 
threaded with deep meaning, — 

“ Yes, I — think I was.” 

He drew her to him, whispered three little words 
— and the new moon, just dipping her last upturned 
horn beneath the horizon, may have seen their kiss 


282 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


of betrothal ; but if so, she modestly withdrew from 
sight, and never told the sweet secret. 

I suppose my story should properly end here, but 
Sara felt that hers was just beginning. With arm 
linked in arm the two went softly down the steps, and 
strolled through the odorous hush of the garden, try- 
ing to tell the emotions of three years in as many 
minutes, while the unconscious couple within sang, 
and sparred, and sang again, perfectly certain of their 
unseen listener outside. After the first few moments, 
in which they could think of nothing but their own 
two selves, so strangely and quickly bound into one, 
Sara asked, — 

“ But how did you happen to be here just now, 
Robert 

“ Because I came ! I was like a chained beast all 
the time you were ill, though Molly’s letters gave 
only the most cheering news, but I knew I couldn’t 
see you if I were here, and I mustn’t leave aunt ; 
but when word came from uncle that he was down 
with a malarial attack at Omaha, on his way home, 
and she started at once to nurse him, I made up my 
mind very shortly as to my next move — which was 
to pack my grip and come on, to ' put my courage to 
the test, to win or lose it all.’ ” 

“It required a great deal of courage!” laughed 
Sara. 

“ More than you think, sweetheart. I was not at 
all sure of your feelings towards me — to tell the 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 283 

truth, I have been horribly jealous of that singing-fel- 
low — what’s his name — Garth, isn’t it ? ” 

Sara laughed merrily, and just then a booming 
strain rolled out from the drawing-room upon the 
silent air. 

“ Listen ! ” she said ; isn’t that a fine baritone ? 
That’s something from Offenbach, I think.” 

“Magnificent!” returned Robert unsuspiciously, 
thrilling at her light, trustful touch upon his arm. 
“ Who is it ? Some friend of the Macons ? ” 

“No, of ours. It is — Mr. Preston Garth.” 

He started, looked at her, and even in the dusk 
caught the amused flash of her eye. 

“ The rascal I Must I then run upon him the very 
first minute of my meeting you ? ” he queried tragi- 
cally. 

“ Not necessarily — still perhaps, just for politeness’ 
sake, we had better go back and say good-night to 
him. I think they have finished now, the music 
seems to have ceased.” 

They turned back towards the house just as Molly, 
who, with Mr. Garth, had now come out upon the ver- 
anda, cried excitedly, — 

“ Why, she’s gone. Sara ! Sara ! Where are you } ” 

“ I am here, Molly,” advancing with her compan- 
ion, “ here with — Mr. Glendenning.” 

“ Oh I ” said Molly ; and Mr. Garth, feeling a sudden 
twinge of doubt and dread, waited but a moment 
longer, going through with the introductions almost 
mechanically — then, becoming suddenly aware of his 


284 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


neglected engagement at the museum, hastened on 
his way — leaving Robert in full possession of the 
field. 

After answering a question of Molly’s he entered 
the house with the two girls. They had just stepped 
into the brightly-lighted drawing-room, when the 
younger, a trifle in advance, turned with some light 
remark, and was at once arrested by the beatified 
expression upon both faces. 

Her remark died on her lips ; and her eyes, filled 
with wonderment, travelled from one countenance to 
the other, as if determined to drag the secret from 
them by mesmeric force. 

“Tell her, Robert,” said Sara softly; upon which 
Molly’s hands came together sharply, after an old, 
childish trick of hers. 

“ No need ! No need ! ” she cried with her usual 
frankness; “I’m not blind — and I never saw a 
couple so plainly ticketed ‘ sold ’ before ! ” Then 
holding out a hand to each of the somewhat abashed 
pair, she cried merrily, “ It’s lovely, though ! And 
remember, Mr. Glendenning, I always share in all 
Sara’s good things, so now you’ll have to be my 
brother, if you have determined to be her — master,” 
pointed by one of her indescribable grimaces. 

“ Master, eh ? ” queried the young man, raising his 
eyebrows. “ Do you know, Molly, I shall be more 
than happy to be just her — husband ” 

“ Well, what’s the difference } ‘ A rose by any 

other name,’ you know ; only look out for Sara ! I 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 285 

never saw a girl quite like her ; while she’s seeming 
to give up she always gets her way” — 

“ As she has now ! ” put in that maiden with a 
happy laugh. Don’t tell Robert all my faults to- 
night, dear; let him have a surprise nowand then.” 

“ That means she is convinced that now you think 
her perfect,” interrupted the saucy girl, with a trill 
of laughter. Then growing suddenly as gentle and 
tender as she had been elfish before, she added 
sweetly, ‘‘And Robert, you are right; you have 
won a real treasure — a perfect darling — as nobody 
knows better than her naughty, teasing sister.” 

Robert stayed a week, which time was to both lov- 
ers like a leaf blown back from Eden. The weather, 
as if in chime with their mood, was simply exquisite; 
and after the more imperative duties at the museum 
were over, they passed the hours together, walking, 
riding, or boating on the river, as utterly self- 
centred, and as foolishly happy as if one were 
not a thorough-going business man, and the other 
a studious worker and writer, beginning to make a 
reputation for herself. Just then the world, with its 
cares, its ambitions, and demands, was quite shut 
out, while love and happiness reigned supreme. 

Such days, however, soon come to an end in this 
work-a-day world. An imperative telegram recalled 
Robert to Chicago and business ; but not till he had 
won a definite promise from Sara that the marriage 
should take place the following October. 

“ So soon ! ” she cried, when he made the proposi- 


286 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


tion. “ But have you stopped to think ? There is 
Molly — yes, and Morton, for I could not leave him 
here alone, though he is almost self-supporting 
now.” 

“Yes, I have thought it all out. My salary is not 
large for an expensive city, like Chicago, but we can 
all live upon it modestly, even there ; and fortu- 
nately we none of us have extravagant tastes.” 

Sara’s eyes filled. 

“ Robert, how good you are ! Would you really 
burden yourself with my brother and sister.!^ It is 
too much to ask ! ” 

“ I shall not look upon it as a burden, dearest. If 
they are yours they are also mine ; and, as you say, 
Morton will soon take care of himself, for I can 
easily secure him a position there. As for Molly, 
we’ll send her to school a while yet ; but mark me, 
Sara, she’ll be carried off before we know it, such 
a pretty girl as she.” 

“ Well, there’s one thing, Robert, I can write : you 
won’t object to that } ” 

“Object! I’m proud of it! Write all you like, 
and be as learned as you please. The world may 
know you as a sage and a philosopher ; but I, — ah ! 
how little they guess what you are to me, my little 
princess by the sea! And now, if all your objec- 
tions have been properly overruled, will you give me 
the answer I desire ? ” 

“Yes,” said Sara, “if” — 

“There ! You have said all that is required,” lay- 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 


287 


ing his finger on her lips, “ don’t spoil it with con- 
junctions. A simple affirmative is quite enough ; 
I’ll imagine the rest,” and Sara, only too happy to 
be thus overmastered, attempted no more objections 
to demands so sweet. 

From this dream of bliss Sara plunged directly 
into, a deep vortex of house-cleaning, for she was de- 
termined that the premises should be in perfect 
order upon the Macons’ arrival. For four days chaos 
reigned, with the broom and scrubbing-brush for 
prime ministers. Morton took refuge at the store, 
but poor Sam, not so fortunate, had to face it all ; 
and he felt as if the deluge had come again, with 
some new and harrowing accompaniments, in which 
woman’s rights and demands were prominent. Then, 
on the fifth, they rested from their labors in the 
clean, soap-charged atmosphere — walking gingerly 
over spick and span carpets, laying each book and 
paper demurely in place, and gazing, at a proper dis- 
tance, through diamond-bright windows ; and on the 
sixth the Macons arrived. 

They seemed delighted to be at home once more, 
and both looked unusually well, having gained in 
flesh and color. The professor was genial and se- 
rene, Mrs. Macon full of life and sparkle. She ran 
from room to room, like a child ; then through the 
gardens and shrubberies, returning quite out of 
breath. 

“ O Henry ! ” she cried, “ isn’t it nice to find ev- 


288 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


erything in such good condition ? I remember after 
our last long trip it was really dreadful for a week or 
two — everything yellow and musty ; mice and cock- 
roaches camping in the library and bedrooms, and 
spiders everywhere. By the way, Sara, have you had 
to fight moths much ? ” 

“Yes, occasionally. Molly has made a raid on 
them every week or so, with gasoline, I believe ■ — I 
don’t think they’ve made much headway.” 

“ Well, it’s perfectly charming ; and I should break 
out into ‘Home, sweet Home,’ or something else 
equally original, if I had an atom^ of a voice. Now 
tell me all the news, — who’s married, and to whom 
have the storks brought the blessed babies ? ” 

“Yes, don’t forget the babies,” laughed her hus- 
band. “Marian has spent most of her trip acting as 
nursemaid to poor little sticky-faced souls, whose 
mothers were utterly discouraged. I’m daily expecting 
that the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Chil- 
dren will send her a gold, medal, for I am sure she 
richly deserves it.” 

“ Well, I shall be far more proud of it than of any 
old fossilized remnant of antediluvial times, I can as- 
sure you,” was the quick retort. “ And Henry 
needn’t say anything, either, for he walked the coach- 
aisle a good half-hour with a crying baby yesterday 
— to be sure it had a lovely little mamma, who 
hadn’t an idea how to manage it.” 

“Yes, it was all for the mamma,” assented the 
professor demurely, with a twinkle at Molly, who 


THE PRINCE COMETH. 289 

was heartily enjoying the scene, and only impatient 
to put in her oar, as now. 

“Did you have many engaged couples on the 
train ? " she questioned wickedly. “ I think they’re 
worse than babies — so uninteresting, you know, be- 
sides being oblivious to the point of idiotcy. I’ve been 

tired picking up after — oh! I nearly forgot my- 
self — I mean generally speaking, of course.” 

Sara’s face was a study, but one easy to decipher ; 
for the cheeks crimsoned with embarrassment, the 
lips quivering with indignation, and the eyes aglow 
with a happiness no mortification could conceal, told 
all her secret in living characters. Mrs. Macon 
nearly sprang from her chair. 

“ W/w is it, Sara ? Mr. Garth — Mr. Steene — that 
little professor of mathematics with the bald head, or 
— oh ! tell me, zs it Mr. Glendenning } ” 

“What a wonderful guesser youare !” cried Molly. 

“And not born in Yankeedom, either!” laughed 
the professor, really pitying Sara’s distress. 

Morton came to the rescue, as usual. 

“ If it is Mr. Glendenning, that’s no reason for 
blazoning it around all over the country, as if you 
were too proud of it to keep still. Robert Glenden- 
ning’s a nice fellow, but I never saw anybody quite 
good enough for Sara.” 

“ Nor I,” said Molly, entirely unruffled ; “ but she’s 
like those of royal blood, you see — she makes a man 
honorable by marrying him.” 

Amid the laughter over the cool impudence of this 


290 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


assumption, Sara recovered herself somewhat, and re- 
ceived with tranquillity the hearty congratulations 
which followed. 

“ I’m not a bit surprised — I saw it as long ago as 
last Thanksgiving,” observed Mrs. Macon. 

“Yes,” put in her husband placidly, “Mrs. Macon’s 
foresight is almost up to the Irishman’s.” 

“Well, you may laugh, but I did — and what’s 
more, I gave my consent. I told him he was most 
welcome^ and he understood me ! ” 

“ That was generous,” said the professor ironically, 
beginning to cut the leaves of half a dozen periodi- 
cals which awaited him upon the library table ; at 
which the rest — taking the hint — adjourned to the 
veranda, to talk it over at their leisure. 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 


291 


CHAPTER XXII. 

GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 

The next day, as Mrs. Macon and Sara found 
themselves alone in the former’s special boudoir, 
that lady remarked, — 

“ You haven’t asked me yet what the proposition 
is that I mentioned in my letter.” 

“No,” answered Sara with a smile, remembering 
their conversation over it ; “are you ready to make 
it now ? ” 

“Yes, and more hopeful of the answer I desire 
since I have heard of your approaching marriage. 
Sara, Henry and I want to adopt Molly.” 

“ Adopt Molly ? ” repeated the sister, with wide, 
astonished eyes. 

“ Yes ; she is just what we both need to give us an 
interest in life, and to make our home the bright, 
joyous place we want it to be. My original proposi- 
tion was to have been that, while we legally adopted 
her, and gave her our name in addition to her own, 
so that there need never be any trouble about prop- 
erty matters, you should still keep up all your ties of 
kindred, and that Morton and yourself should find 


292 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


board near by, and make our house your second 
home. Then Henry would of course use all his 
influence to advance you both. Your marriage will 
change the plan a trifle, leaving Morton, as it does, 
somewhat unprovided for, and Henry has commis- 
sioned me to say that, if you will consent to our 
adoption of Molly, Morton shall have a home here, 
also, till of age, and all the help we can give him — 
though we will not adopt him as our own. What do 
you think of it ? ” 

“ I am so surprised, dazed, I can’t think : it is 
most generous ! ” 

“Not generous; we expect to receive all that we 
give ; yet we won’t be selfish, either. I don’t ask 
you to give Molly up at all, in one sense — only to 
let us share with you in her love, and take from 
you all expense and care.” 

“ Dear Mrs. Macon, you are a mother to us now — 
have been from the first day I saw you — and Molly 
is a happy girl to have won your approbation ! She 
shall decide this matter for herself ; I will consent to 
whatever she wishes.” 

“Then will you tell her, Sara? I want her to 
decide unbiassed by my presence;” to which Sara 
readily agreed. 

But when told, Molly was even more amazed than 
her sister had been, and at first ran and clung to 
her, like a child about to be torn from its mother’s 
arms. 

The almost involuntary action touched Sara deeply. 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 


293 


and for a* moment the sisters remained locked in a 
close embrace, each sobbing uncontrollably. After a 
little they grew more quiet, and talked the matter 
over in all its bearings, and Sara could see that the 
idea pleased the child. 

“ If it was to give you and Morton up, Td never 
consent,” she said decidedly, “but it isn’t. Mrs. 
Macon is just as fond of you as of me, Sara, and all 
the difference is that now you and Robert can marry 
without worrying over my future.” 

“We have never worried, dear ; lay that up to 
Robert’s credit, and remember that his offer of a 
home to you and Morton was as hearty and sincere 
as Mrs. Macon’s own.- I should not have been so 
fond and proud of him otherwise.” 

Molly, sitting affectionately on her sister’s knee, 
toyed with her hair a moment, then said diffidently, — 

•“ Sara.” 

“ Well, Molly > ” 

“Don’t be provoked, dear, but I’ve sometimes 
thought you would marry Jasper.” 

“ Why, child ? ” trying not to color beneath the 
searching young eyes. 

“ Oh, he always seemed to like you so well ; and 
Miss Prue too, I think she wanted it anyhow.” 

Sara hesitated a moment, then said gently, — 

“ I should consider it a great compliment if Miss 
Prue had felt so — and that makes me think — I 
must not delay longer to write her of these new 
plans of ours. And now, dear little sister, go to 


294 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Mrs. Macon yourself, and tell her your, decision. 
She is waiting in her own room.” 

“ But you’ll come with me, Sara } ” 

“No, child, best go alone.” 

“But what shall I say.^” diffidently. 

“Now, Molly, as if you were ever at a loss.” 

“But I so often say the wrong thing, and you 
never do, Sara,” with a sudden spasm of feeling that 
brought hot tears to her eyes ; “ it doesn’t seem 
right! You’ve been so good, and look at all the 
hard times you’ve had, while I’m just penetrated 
with naughtiness, and yet things always go smoothly 
with me ! ” 

“ Well, dear, then you have only to be thankful, 
and as good as possible ; nor worry about me, God 
has blessed me abundantly.” 

A little later, Mrs. Macon moving restlessly about 
her pleasant room, heard a timid knock at the door, 
most unlike Molly’s usual frank and earnest rapping; 
and at her invitation to enter, there appeared a much 
disguised edition of that damsel ; for in place of the 
merry, fearless creature we all know, here stood a 
timid, blushing girl, apparently afraid to take another 
step forward. 

Mrs. Macon felt inclined to a burst of laughter, 
which verged closely upon tears, as Molly sidled in, 
and began in a voice as soft as Sara’s own, — 

“ Dear Mrs. Macon, I’ve come to be your child, if 
you want me, and it’s easy to say I shall love you 
well, but” — suddenly breaking out into her usual 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 295 

frankness — “ I’ll tell you what it is, you’re getting 
much the worst of the bargain !” 

“ We can only leave that for time to tell, Molly,” 
drawing the girl to her with a tender kiss; ‘‘and 
now, Mary Olmstead Macon, I formally claim you as 
my own dear daughter ; will it be hard for you to 
call me mother ? ” 

“Not hard, but strange, dear Mrs. — mother — 
blushing vividly ; then, throwing her arms about 
the lady’s neck with all the abandon she would have 
shown to Sara, she said heartily, “ No, it isn’t hard, 
dear, sweet mother, for I’m going to love you with 
all my heart ! ” and Mrs. Macon held her close, with 
a new fondness, born of possession, thrilling all her 
being. 

After this there was no question but that Sara 
should be married from this new home, as both the 
professor and his wife insisted upon it ; and when she 
tried to speak of paying board, Mrs. Macon only 
laughed at her. 

“ Now, Sara, do be quiet ! ” she said. “ You may 
go on helping Henry till you get his new assistant 
broken in, of course — I won’t say a word against 
that — but you must have every cent for your trous- 
scati — and we’ll show the madame some things that 
will make her open even her French eyes, I ima- 
gine ! ” this outburst having been called out by the 
receipt of a letter from the little woman that very 
morning. 

Though it was one of warm approval and hearty 


296 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


good wishes, Mrs. Macon fancied she could read, 
between the lines of charming French-English, a 
desire to take the direction of affairs as soon as her 
husband’s already improved condition should permit ; 
and this did not suit the energetic manageress of 
this new family at all. 

She had never been so much in her element for 
years. She delighted in life, stir, youth, and busi- 
ness ; she liked to direct people — and, fortunately, 
Sara was one who could take even interference 
sweetly. So she arranged shopping tours, made 
engagements with dressmakers and milliners, and 
matched silk and lace with the greatest gusto, Sara 
being occasionally allowed a word in the matter. 

Sometimes the latter attempted a remonstrance. 

“ But, Mrs. Macon,” she whispered once, in alarm, 
“ aren’t you ordering more than I need of that silk } 
I’m afraid ” — 

“ Now, my dear. I’m not going to have your dress 
spoiled for the lack of a yard or two. It’s all fixed, 
and the clerk understands — and see here, don’t be 
buying thread and linings, and such things — I’ve 
more than enough at home, so don’t let’s clutter our- 
selves with useless articles.” 

It was of no use to remonstrate — Marian Macon 
always had her way — and, if Sara would have hon- 
estly preferred a less expensive outfit, entirely of her 
own purchasing, she felt that it was little enough to 
do to sacrifice her well-loved independence to the 
generous whims of so kind and true a friend. 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 297 

Miss Prue’s answer to Sara’s letter, announcing 
her engagement, was prompt and characteristic. 
She wished her every happiness, and was enthusias- 
tic over Molly’s good-fortune, but she could not help 
one little outburst. 

I did think you loved the sea, and your own peo- 
ple, too well to leave us forever — but I see it is not 
so — and I must say you’ve turned all my plans 
topsy-turvy ! But perhaps, if you’ll come down, and 
talk it over with me, I can bring myself to forgive 
you. Do come, Sara ! If you go so far away, I may 
never see you again ; for Polly and I are getting older, 
and more set in our ways, every day.” 

“ I must go,” she said to Mrs. Macon, reading part 
of the letter aloud, “if only for a few days ; perhaps, 
too, I can then make some definite arrangement in 
regard to our cottage — how I do wish I could find a 
purchaser for it ! ” 

She had expected to take the stage around the 
long way from Norcross to Killamet ; but when she 
descended from the train what was her pleased sur- 
prise to be greeted by Bertha and — of all people — 
Jasper ! They informed her they had rowed across 
the bay on purpose to take her home. 

She tried not to feel embarrassed in the latter’s 
presence, and wondered how much he knew of her 
plans ; but Bertha was so bright and full of talk that 
there was little space for confusion or wonderings. 

“How well you’re looking, Bertha!” she said, as 
— now in the boat — Jasper pulled out from the 


298 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


sleepy little wharf. '‘You are as brown and rosy as 
any fisher-girl of us all.” 

As she spoke, half-idly, her glance taking in both 
figures before her, she could almost have sworn that 
a lightning-like eye-signal passed between them, 
before Bertha answered, with a conscious little 
laugh, — 

“Well, I enjoy the life as if I had been born to it. 
Do you know, I can row — yes, and swim — as well 
as anybody, and I know all your old nooks, and ” — 

She paused suddenly, and Sara cried, — 

“ All mine ? Why, who told you ? Some of them 
you could never have found, Tm sure.” 

Bertha blushed, but Jasper spoke up bravely, — 

“ Oh, I showed her. She’s as great a climber as 
you used to be, Sairay.” 

“ That was nice of you, Jasper ! So you know the 
‘ Mermaid’s Castle,’ and the pine walk, and all ? ” 

Bertha assented, then turned the subject to Mrs. 
Searle, the cottage, etc., while Sara began to have a 
dawning feeling that, possibly, she need not worry 
over Jasper’s future happiness, at least to the exclu- 
sion of her own. 

Miss Prue greeted her warmly ; and everything 
was so exactly the same, from the white, curving 
beach, and long fish-sheds, the unpainted houses and 
the plants in the bow-windows, to the red and green 
carpet, and dragon-china in her little parlor, that 
Sara could hardly believe she had ever been away. 
Hester, seemingly not a day older, and wearing the 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 


299 


identical turban she had last seen her in, Sara felt 
certain, greeted her with respectful warmth, and 
Polly grunted, — 

“Come in — shut the door — how d’ye do ? — Git 
out ! ” in her old familiar style. 

Jasper had come with her to the door to carry the 
large valise, which was the only luggage she had 
brought ; but Bertha bade them an revoir at the turn, 
saying she must hurry back to Mrs. Searle. 

“Won’t you come in and stay to supper, Jasper.?” 
asked Miss Prue, as he set the valise down and pre- 
pared to depart. 

“ No, thank you. Cousin Prue, I’ve got some mar- 
keting to take home to mother that she sent for to 
Norcross.” 

“ Well, come down this evening, then.” 

“Guess I will, thank you. I told Bertha I’d call. 
around after her — she’d like to come too.” 

“ Humph ! very well,” said his cousin, closing the 
door after him with more vim than was strictly ne- 
cessary. 

“How good it seems to be here once more ! ” ex- 
claimed Sara, looking all about her. “You’ve had a 
new set of book-shelves put in, haven’t you .? That’s 
all the change I see.” 

“Yes, and all you’ll find in the whole village, likely, 
except in your own house — that you’d never know.” 

“Have you made acquaintance with Mrs. Searle 
and Bertha .? ” asked Sara, after Miss Prue had re- 
turned from trotting away with her wraps. 


300 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


Oh, yes ; she’s a nice woman when she isn’t 
under the dominion of her nerves, and she says she 
hasn’t been so well in years as she is here ; the air 
seems to agree with her, and she enjoys the quiet.” 

“ I’m glad of that. How do you like Bertha ? ” 

“ Oh, she’s a nice girl,” carelessly ; “ she thinks the 
world of you.” 

“ Does she ? ” smiling a little ; it’s mutual.” 

Then her hostess asked after the twins, the Ma- 
cons, etc., after which they went out to supper. 

In the evening Bertha came with Jasper. There 
was an abounding joyousness in her manner, which 
so tallied with Sara’s deep happiness that she could 
not but notice it ; and it was evident that there was 
at least perfect good feeling, if nothing more, between 
her and Jasper. 

After they had gone, Sara turned with a mischiev- 
ous look to her old friend. 

“ I’ve an idea, Miss Prue, that Bertha is quite in 
love with — Killamet and its environs ; she seems 
really enthusiastic. But how does it happen that 
Jasper is at home now ? ” 

Well, the season is nearly over, and I believe his 
schooner is undergoing repairs — he’s his own mas- 
ter now, and goes and comes as he likes.” 

“ Yes ; that must be pleasant ! He seems unusually 
well ; I never saw him looking so handsome.” 

“Humph!” said Miss Prue, and drew the curtain 
sharply, after which they adjourned for the night. 

Sara found Miss Prue was right about her own 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 


301 


house. Two coats of paint outside gave it a decidedly 
spruce appearance, while, inside, that lady’s vision as 
to its capabilities had been more than realized. The 
blending of roughness and luxury, of camp and home 
characteristics, gave the large central apartment a 
quaintness that had real charm for eyes weary of 
too great sameness in house-decoration ; and when 
Mrs. Searle began negotiations for buying the place, 
Sara felt, for a moment, very loath to sell. But she 
quickly conquered the feeling, knowing its useless- 
ness ; and as the purchaser was in real earnest, and 
no haggler, while the seller had not an idea how to 
drive a hard bargain, they soon came to terms satis- 
factory to both. 

As Mrs. Searle held out her feeble hand from her 
invalid chair to bid Sara farewell, she retained the 
young girl’s a moment to say, — 

‘‘You will not mind an old woman’s congratulating 
you upon your future, will you ? I knew Robert 
Glendenning’s father in my youth ; and if the son is 
like him in character, you may well be congratu- 
lated.” 

Sara blushingly murmured her acknowledgments, 
and the lady continued, — 

“ I want to thank you for sending me Bertha, also ; 
she’s a real little treasure.” 

“I’m so glad you like each other, Mrs. Searle! 
Do you know, that whole affair has always seemed 
providential to me ? I was a passive instrument in 
wiser hands.” 


302 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


‘‘As we all are, more often than we think — well, 
good-by, and when you long for a sight of the old 
home, and the sea, you will always be welcome here.” 

It was Sara’s only visit to the cottage, for her stay 
in Killamet was necessarily short. She spent all the 
time possible with her dear old friend, who she could 
plainly see, was losing in vigor daily. But though 
she frankly referred to her approaching marriage, and 
discussed her future plans in detail, it was not till the 
last day that either touched upon the subject as 
affecting Jasper. 

He had sailed away that morning, bidding her a 
kind farewell, but reserving his last look and hand- 
clasp for Bertha ; and as the two girls walked back 
together from the beach, stopping to call on Zeba 
Osterhaus and Mrs. Updyke by the way, she could 
but notice how quiet her friend seemed, and men- 
tioned it later to Miss Prue, with the bold com- 
ment, — 

“ She will miss Jasper greatly, for, as I understand, 
they have been together almost constantly these last 
two months.” 

Her hostess knitted a round or two before she 
answered. 

“ Well, and I suppose you think that shows conclu- 
sively that he never cared anything for you — but it 
doesn’t. Jasper’s as steady and faithful as the sun, 
and if you had married him he would have been a loyal 
husband to his dying day. But you wouldn’t. At least 
that’s my explanation of matters ; I know he went 


GOOD-BY TO KILLAMET. 


303 


down to Norcross on business, and came home look- 
ing as if he had buried all his friends. He acknowl- 
edged he had seen you, and it didn’t take me long to 
figure out the matter — and, Sara Olmstead, I will 
own I was disappointed in you — dreadfully disap- 
pointed ! He met Bertha right here at my house — 
happened in one day when she was here on an errand 
— • and she said something pleasant about you. That 
caught his attention, and I really believe, for a while, 
he sought that girl out just to hear her praises of 
you ; and if it has grown to be something different 
with time, you ought to be the last one to blame 
him.” 

“ Blame him ? My dear Miss Prue, I think it’s the 
nicest thing in the world — only, I came down here, 
you know, on purpose to win your forgiveness, and 
I’m not willing to go back without it.” 

“ Oh, of course you’ll get it — you know that — 
but I’ve got to go and plan out a whole new will, for 
I had determined to leave everything equally divided 
between you and Jasper which I can’t do now with- 
out splitting everything in two, so ” — 

I’m to be cut off with a shilling ? ” gayly ; but I 
won’t complain, if you’ll only continue to give me 
your love — ah ! dear Miss Prue, I am mercenary in 
one way, only — I do want all the affection I can beg 
or borrow ! ” 

For answer, the elder maiden took the younger in 
her arms and gave her a most tender kiss — so peace 
was made, and the ambassador who had failed to 


304 


SARA, A PRINCESS. 


bring about the nuptials so ardently desired was at 
last propitiated. 

This time it was old Adam Standish who rowed 
Sara over the bay to Norcross, — Adam, unchanged 
in lineament or costume, — while faithful friends, as 
before, watched from the beach. Again she looked 
back with tear-dimmed eyes; for tender memories of 
father, mother, baby-brother, and all childhood’s asso- 
ciations, tugged at her heart-strings — but there was 
now no dread and fear to paralyze her. 

She faced an uncertain future, it is true, but one 
bounded by tenderness and care, whose horizon-line 
glowed before her with rosy visions, which stretched 
away in glad promise to the infinite deeps of 
Heaven ! 




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